


Role Reversal

by JessieBlackwood



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Torchwood AU, Torchwood Three, reversal of roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-17 16:23:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessieBlackwood/pseuds/JessieBlackwood
Summary: What if Jack wasn't the leader of Torchwood Three? What if there was someone else appointed to lead the team? Wonder how things would go….? This is an AU, in which everybody is still alive. There’s no particular timeline.





	1. Coffee King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Krekta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krekta/gifts).



> This was originally posted on Fanfiction.net a looooong time ago. August 3rd, 2009! It was my first fanfiction that I dared publish, and I cannot believe that it has received over 44k views in the last nine years. I always wanted to edit it and see if I still liked it. Honestly not sure because my writing has changed over the years. Torchwood is where I began in fanfiction, and I have come so far since, largely due to you, my readers. I shall be updating quite fast, but I need to work on the editing.

Captain Jack Harkness took the stairs down into the hub two at a time. He was late and he knew it, although he had a good reason; shit shoveling, again. The rest of the team had returned hours ago, but as always he had landed the messy job of getting rid of the bodies. He grimaced as he hit bottom, he was always shit shoveling, clearing everyone else's mess up after them, making sure they got everywhere on time, and, oh yes, making the coffee. At least he was complemented for his coffee making skills. It was his own fault, he thought sourly. He didn't delegate very easily, didn't trust others to do a good enough job. Swinging round towards his workstation, its computer humming in readiness, he noticed that the others were nowhere to be seen. He cast his eyes up to the office above to see if the boss had noticed his late arrival but there was no movement. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the man had quit for the day?

"Jack? Where's my coffee?"

“Damn,” Jack swore beneath his breath. _Does that guy ever miss anything?_

"Coming, sir," he called back, making his way quickly towards the small kitchen area. Precisely six minutes later he knocked on the door and went in, seeing the boss behind his desk, immaculate in suit and tie, scanning some paperwork. The man popped the button on the stopwatch he was holding in one hand, glanced briefly at it, and then said with a grin, "six minutes, Jack. I’m impressed. You're getting faster.” He watched as Jack walked round to stand beside him in the same place as always, watching as Jack set the coffee mug down on the desk next to him, same place as always. "Will there be anything else, Sir?" There it was. Always the same question as well.

Ianto Jones' grin faded a little and he took a sip of his coffee before saying anything further. He hadn't been Torchwood Three's boss for long but it felt like an eternity sometimes. However, if anyone could understand eternity, then this man could. "Excellent, as always," he said with what he hoped was a warm smile, putting the mug down. He wished Jack would relax in his presence. The rest of the team did, but not Jack. Ianto had always put it down to the man's immortality. He appreciated how difficult it must be to live with seeing your friends grow old and die, but he had no idea of what it must do to a man to go through that time and again. Nothing could kill Jack Harkness. He simply died and was resurrected time and again. It made him a valuable resource for Torchwood, but Ianto wondered why he had never been made leader. His personality was flawed, but then, so was everybody else's. No one who worked for Torchwood was ever perfect, some were even quite seriously damaged. They were often the ones who got promoted, for God's sake. 

_No_ , Ianto thought, _it’s because they fear him, those folk still in charge_. The anonymous folk in government and UNIT who keep an eye on those supposed to be above them all, they wouldn’t want someone like Harkness in charge of anything. _Who watches the watchers,_ Ianto thought glumly. They probably considered Jack Harkness (it wasn't even his real name, no one knew it) to be more of a threat than an asset, one they were happy to use until he outlived his usefulness or threatened their nice cosy world. The man was even friends with the enigmatic time travelling "Doctor", the original 'enemy number one' as far as Torchwood was concerned.

Ianto had always felt at a disadvantage in the matter of Jack Harkness. The man looked no older than his late 30s but he was well over a hundred years Ianto's senior if the files were to be believed. Ianto knew that he himself was young for a Torchwood operative, never mind a leader, but he had graduated from Torchwood One with honours as far as the _Management_ were concerned. Playing a part in the battle of Canary Wharf, although he had been almost the last one standing, had been seen as action above and beyond. He had been sent back to his native Wales as Torchwood Three’s new boss after its previous leader, Suzie Costello, had died less than a year ago. Such losses were something you lived with in Torchwood. Ianto had lost people close to him, first his mother at a relatively young age, then his fiancée Lisa at Canary Wharf, although he rarely spoke about it. He recognised something in Jack, a sorrow, a shadow of something shared. Yet although he was drawn to the charismatic Captain, Ianto didn't allow himself to lower his guard. The man was an inveterate flirt, had a reputation for sleeping with anything he found attractive; human, alien, male, female, it didn't seem to bother him. The reports all said he that was charming and superficial with a forceful personality. Ianto had known that the people who had sent him into this job were worried that he would find Jack a handful to keep under control, that he wasn't a strong enough personality to hold back the loose cannon that was Captain Harkness. _Maybe_ , a small voice had said, _I won't want to hold him back. Maybe that's what makes him so useful._

The reports could not have prepared him for certain things however. In the flesh, Harkness was a _very_ attractive man. At 6 ft tall, he was a shade taller than Jones whose 5'11" frame was also appreciably lighter in build. Harkness was strong, broad through shoulders and chest, powerful to look at. He exuded charisma, his easy confidence rubbing off on everyone around him. He already had a comfortable camaraderie with the small team; they liked him, loved him even. Ianto Jones had known from the first that the key to winning them was to win Jack over, but all that thought did was daunt him. How the Hell can I compare to the fearless Jack Harkness, he thought? _What can I ever manage to do to gain the man's respect, his trust?_ He had no idea that Tosh had pulled his personnel reports, that they already knew about his actions and commendation for the part at Canary Wharf. 

Ianto also knew he could never rival Jack's ease with his own body, his lack of self consciousness. There was an animalistic grace in the way he moved, a warrior's confidence, eyes so blue and intense they made Jones' heart miss a beat when he first saw them gazing into him. _No, they did not gaze at you, they gazed into you,_ he found himself thinking. It was as if Harkness was looking into his soul. He had laughed later at the fanciful notion, but could not forget the way it had made him feel at the time. His insides felt like they had turned to soft toffee. By comparison, the Harkness handshake was firm, dry and as brief as possible. A single shake, no more. He didn't try to get one over on the new boy, which Jones' had been half expecting. Ianto had been in plenty of situations where someone had almost crushed his fingers to test his reaction. With Harkness, it didn't happen. Oddly, Ianto respected the fact that the Captain hadn't tried that particular tactic. 

He hadn’t laid eyes on Harkness until well after he had arrived at the Cardiff office. It had been Gwen who had fetched him from the railway station, brought him through the Tourist Office front on the wharfside near Roald Dahl Plas and into the bowels of Torchwood Cardiff via the _secret_ door. She had an endearing way of chattering too much when nervous—Ianto wasn't sure if it disturbed him or not—and his arrival had very obviously made her nervous. He had been openly admiring of the set-up, although the others had shown its faults to him over the course of the next few months. He had encouraged them to be honest, and they had taken him at his word, giving him perfectly valid reasons why certain things made life more difficult, and why others had needed jury rigging to make them even part-way operational. It seemed that Suzie, in her growing madness, had ignored and dismissed lots of problems and most of those had needed ironing out immediately. He had attempted to requisition things, buy things, or authorise things that would rectify the difficulties, some of which had worked, some hadn't. Overall, in the next few months, things had improved significantly, which he was proud of. He was suitably impressed with the team's ingenuity though and had praised a blushing Toshiko for her work. Jack had not said a word about any of it, although Ianto had caught him looking now and again, almost as though he wanted to say something, to make some comment, but had held it back.

Since his arrival, Ianto had made an effort to come up to expectations, throwing himself into the work, trying to support his new team, listening and organising and, well… _leading_ , he hoped, by example. The lack of response from Jack Harkness had surprised him but he therefore assumed that he couldn't be performing _that_ badly. Surely, he surmised, someone with Jack's personality would simply not be able to sit back and let him make a hash of things without making comment. Maybe he was like that, maybe the brashness all the reports referred to wasn't as prominent as they thought. Didn't stop him wishing Jack wouldn't be so formal though. He had hoped that the man would at least be a little more friendly. 

Now Ianto smiled encouragingly. "No, thank you, Jack, there's nothing else right now." The man didn't move to leave. Ianto looked at him, frowning. "Was there something?" he asked.

For a moment he thought Jack wasn't going to speak but then the man took a deep breath.

"I need to talk to you, sir."

"Okay, go ahead." Ianto gave him his full attention, the least he could do really.

"I've been thinking quite a lot lately, sir. I guess you could say I've been considering my future. With regard to that, I want to let you know that I’ve made a decision. I have to tell you, I'm leaving Torchwood."

Ianto sat as if poleaxed, the coffee mug paralysed halfway to his mouth. He was completely taken by surprise.

"Jack? Why?"


	2. Coup de Grâce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Ianto experiences Jack's death...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed the rating and the graphic depictions of violence warning. Just in case. I would tick major character death too, but Jack just keeps coming back, as we know...

Every working day since he had arrived in Cardiff, Ianto Jones had come to the Hub from his neat little flat three kilometres away, and every working day Jack had wished Ianto would notice him. The first time he had seen the picture they had been sent of their new boss he had wondered at the decision to make such a young man the leader of such a dangerous and front line operation as Torchwood Cardiff. Placed as they were in an unpredictable area of rift activity, Jack had always hoped they might decide that he was the man for the job, but yet again, the powers that be had overlooked him. He privately thought they were afraid of him, of his unnerving ability to come back from the dead. He did not want to think that the new man might share that fear.

Jack was the longest serving Torchwood operative, almost from the Institute's inception 130 years ago. He had served first as an un-contracted agent, taking any job given to him. He had never cared about what they asked him to do, he was paid and he saw the world. He had served in World War 1, had travelled to Torchwood India in the 20s, been to America in the 30s, served in World War II, fallen hopelessly in love at least three times, and been through the whole gamut of human emotions. He had loved and lost people time and again. Yet Jack lived on. He had hoped he would be promoted after Alex Hopkins had gone mad and killed his team and then himself on the eve of the millennium, but no, Jack had stayed on under the command of Suzie Costello, a transfer from Torchwood One, and now, after her death, he had been overlooked yet again.

Jack had considered Ianto Jones to be wet behind the ears until he had read the file Tosh had managed to pull from the archives. Apparently he had been little more than a Junior Archivist, an administrator for Torchwood One, with little field experience to distinguish his name. However, that had all changed when the Daleks and Cybermen had invaded. Then he had managed to distinguish himself at Canary Wharf. Together with a few others, all that was left of Torchwood One, they had played their part in eliminating both Dalek and Cybermen, saving themselves as well as valuable Torchwood archives and artefacts in the process. Afterwards, he had apparently assumed command of the remaining survivors, organised them into coherent groups, some to look after their injured colleagues, some to mount a salvage operation to rescue what could be dredged from the wreckage before they were relieved by UNIT troops and rescue personnel. In the end, of Torchwood One's 823 personnel, there were only 27 known survivors. 467 were dead, with the rest numbered missing. Ianto lost his fiancée, Lisa, a fellow Torchwood employee, in the battle. It was something Ianto did not refer to. Beyond admitting he had experienced loss in his past, no one knew anything more about that part of him.

Accounts from some of the survivors had been almost comical, even embarrassing, their surprise at Ianto's leadership skills evident. "He was just so _forceful,_ " Researcher Janice Telford said in her statement. "It was like he was a different person, he was always so _nerdy_ before." 

Dr Flemming, one of the most senior staff to survive, had been openly appreciative. "Never knew him. Worked in the Archives I believe, but you'd have thought he worked in Management the way he acted. Still waters, eh? Ah well, you know what they say, desperation brings out desperate action." 

Alex Hardcastle, an IT Technician, had been the most vociferous. "He was great, absolutely bloody great! There we all were, stunned, and he just…took over. He was bloody wonderful. He deserves a medal!" 

Tosh had smiled and Owen had laughed outright. "Poor bugger,” he said. “I wonder if he knows what they think?"

"I think it’s sweet, he must be a nice guy," Gwen had said. "I'm looking forward to meeting him."

"Nice guy he may be, but we don't need a _nice guy_ , we need a leader," Jack had said with a sigh. "As long as his leadership skills are not limited to dire emergencies…"

Jack had reserved judgement. He never took reports on face value, preferring to see for himself how a person acted in the flesh. He had to admit, however, he was impressed by the initial report and he had not been disappointed. Jones had gone on to distinguish himself several times in the field since taking up the leadership of Torchwood Three. He was young, handsome, and single, almost as tall as Jack who found himself looking into a pair of blue eyes to match his own. He had a boyish smile and a firm handclasp and Jack was not immune to any of it, no matter how hard he had tried. The fact that Jones was also modest, hard working, always in the front line and carried himself with quiet dignity was also not lost on the Captain, and the sadness he saw reflected in the blue eyes sometimes made the urge to reach out and comfort him almost overwhelming. Those were the times he simply had to absent himself, make some hasty excuse and depart, before he did something they would both regret.

Coming to his decision to leave had not been easy but he couldn't think of any other way. He ached to get closer to the man, had even passed it off as infatuation, a crush that meant nothing. _Grief, I’ve had my share of those,_ he had thought, chagrined. Somehow, reluctantly, he had begun to realise it was nothing of the sort. Jack was drawn to Ianto, like a moth to a flame. He admired the young man’s stoicism, his pragmatic practicality, his gentle and dry sense of humour. There was something that put Jones above such contact though. He was their leader; professional, aloof, removed from them. He kept himself apart, while still being an active part of the team. It was almost as if he feared that to do otherwise would make him vulnerable in some way, that they might take advantage of his lack of experience or some other perceived weakness. Nobody could fault his courage. He had wielded an assortment of guns as well as a knife with deadly accuracy before now, despatching human menaces as well as alien. Jack could not but admire his skills and, although there was always room for improvement, Ianto Jones was quick, accurate and decisive, but his fighting always seemed to be tinged with the passion of revenge, even though Jones would opt for capture rather than killing if it could be achieved safely.

As a fellow warrior, Jack had hoped they would find common ground but they had barely exchanged words beyond what was required for day to day working. The opportunity never arose to socialise, Jones never joined them for a drink or for food. He preferred his own company and speculations were rife about everything from his sexuality to his favourite colour. They knew that was red, however, when he had replied to their throw-away question as he had been going into his office one day and the others had been discussing such trivia. "Claret actually," he had added, with typical accuracy for detail.

"Do you think he's Gay?" Tosh had speculated over the chinese take-away that same evening.

"Must be, ever known a straight guy to wear a red shirt like that?" Owen commented.

"Watch it, my Rhys wears a red shirt," Gwen replied warningly.

"Well, he did say it was his favourite colour," Tosh reminded them. "He does look good in it."

"Nah," Owen grunted. "That's to hide the blood, if he ever gets hurt. Then it won't demoralise the troops if their leader gets shot."

"He's straight as a line," Jack said firmly.

"What makes you so sure?" Owen retorted. "He's so stuck up his own arse, he has to be gay."

"Thanks Owen, I'll remember that," Jack grinned, cuffing the back of his head gently. "No Christmas card for you this year."

Owen humphed and said it didn't matter, he didn't believe in Christmas anyway, and besides which, wasn't Jack always reminding he wasn't gay and that he didn't like labels?

"He had a fiancée," Gwen reminded them. "It said so on the report Tosh pulled, didn't it?" Just then the Rift alarm had gone off, dinner was forgotten in the rush, and the subject hadn't come up again.

Things for Jack had gone from bad to worse since then, until just being around the man made his insides turn to melted butter. It was insane. _The man is straight for God's sake,_ he reminded himself, although, thinking back, that had never stopped him before. But this time, on this planet, in their 21st century, among these prudish, obstinate, just-dragging- themselves-out-of-the-Victorian-age British, with their so-called liberal attitudes which were anything but, Jack was wary. He wished with all his heart that Ianto Jones would relax around him, just once let that force field down from around his heart. He couldn't even say for certain that they were friends.

One of the others had cottoned on to Jack’s infatuation. He tried hard to conceal it but Tosh knew. She sympathised too, which made it easier, but it was still embarrassing. She had caught him by the office door one evening, delivering coffee. What he was actually doing was leaning on the door frame watching Ianto asleep on his sofa while the coffee cooled in the mug, captivated by how young he looked, how the lines smoothed from his face. Jack was lost in imagining how soft that hair would be under his fingers… Just at that point, Tosh touched his arm. Startled, he had lost hold of the mug and it had crashed to the floor, waking Ianto with the noise and splashing cold coffee over everything. Flustered, Jack had hastened to pick up the pieces, mumbling an apology. "Oh, Jack!" Tosh had said. "I'm so sorry." She turned to Ianto, neatly covering Jack's confusion and said, "I was in too much of a hurry, I'm so sorry, I bumped into Jack coming up with your coffee. I needed to get these to you." She brandished the files. "Look, I'll clean up, it was my fault," she added, but Jack had stuttered a denial and had gone to fetch a mop before anyone realised there was no steam rising from the spilt liquid.

Tosh had found him in the kitchen area later, bleeding from a deep cut on his finger from the broken pottery. She had mopped it dry, fussed over him, told him he would probably need stitches, and to go see Owen, then had seen the tears threatening. It was so unlike Jack to be so vulnerable.

"What's wrong?" she had asked and it all came spilling out, how difficult it was to work around the person you wanted more than anyone in the world, how frightening it was that he might not return your feelings. He had been totally surprised by her reaction, the sadness in her eyes. She admitted then she felt the same for Owen, but she was afraid to say anything, just felt her insides turn to butterflies when he was near, melting when he complimented her, which was rare, and thus more special.

"You hide it well," Jack said gently.

"So do you," she replied. "After all, we’re supposed to be professionals. Somehow, though, I feel better, just sharing this. It was getting to be a burden, not saying anything. Oh, my God, you won't ever tell him, will you?" She looked alarmed, scared even.

"No!" he shook his head, chuckling. "Never. I'm a flirt, but I don't betray confidences. I know how much of a burden it is, keeping it to yourself," he murmured, impulsively hugging her. "Thanks for covering for me." From then on it had gotten a little better, but not nearly enough.

Now Jack was making his intent clear. He knew what it meant. They would probably use Retcon on him, the retroactive drug that would wipe his memory. Or maybe not, he had a lot of memory to try wiping. He almost yearned to forget Ianto Jones. Maybe he could transfer, there had been discussions of rebuilding Torchwood One in London. He saw the shock in Ianto's eyes, was a little surprised by it, not sure of his ground.

"Jack, why? You're a good operative, excellent even. I've never had cause to complain…" Ianto was puzzled, actually thrown badly off balance. Even if he never said it, he had come to rely on Jack quite heavily to support the rest of the crew in combat, knowing that his experience, his unflappable nature and calm-in-the-face-of-fire approach held the rest of them together, even him. He was decisive, confident, and it rubbed off on everyone around him. Jack's face was expressionless. He could close down and hide anything he wanted to, Jones knew that. If he didn't want to reveal what he was thinking, and feeling, he wouldn't. Now he simply stood there, unmoving.

"Why Jack?" Jones asked again. "I can't…"

The alarm went off, shattering the silence. In seconds, Jones was on his feet and running out the door, grabbing his overcoat as he went, calling for the rest of them and demanding to know what was happening. Owen emerged from the autopsy room, shouldering his bag and trying to adjust the gun holster on his belt. Toshiko followed him, dashing back to her workstation, tapping on the keyboard, bringing up the arrays. Gwen emerged from the lower levels, gun in hand, ripping the ear defenders off her head. Jack dodged to the weapon cabinet as Tosh began relaying what was happening. A rift spike had struck nearby, something had landed in someone's back garden. She was rapidly bringing up coordinates and sending them to the on-board computer in the SUV. Jack handed out weapons—the standard Torchwood issue pistols, a couple of stun guns and a rifle—grabbing extra ammo and running after his boss. 

"We'll talk later," Jones muttered as they got in the vehicle. “Right now, I need you.” They drove at break-neck speed through the dark streets. Jack said nothing. He concentrated on driving.

The police were already there, setting up scene of crime tape and sealing off the street. Jones ducked under the tape, immediately recognised by the duty police and let in without a word. "Wondered how long it would be before they arrived," somebody muttered as they passed, but no one tried to stop them. PC Andy Davidson, Gwen's partner when she had been in the Force, was talking to the frightened owners of the house. He was the one who came over and told them about the mess in the back garden, showing them through to the patio and onto the large expanse of dark, neatly clipped grass. 40 yards away something had ripped a deep gouge forming a diagonal path across the greenery, destroying part of the fence and coming to rest in the shrubbery at the end of the long garden. The remains of a kids' set of swings and climbing frame were twisted into the scene. 

Jones shook his head, thankful that this had happened at night and not caused fatalities during the day. Jack was scanning the area, taking in the details. Gwen and Owen stayed to talk to the occupants of the house who had been shocked to find their roof almost blown off by the thing. Gwen had always been especially good at the tea-and-sympathy approach, often getting more from people than Jack with his more forthright ways. Drawing his sidearm, Ianto left her to it and made his way down the garden towards the crashed _meteor,_ examining the gouge as he went. Jack followed him, warily scanning the shrubbery as they passed, pausing to look into the gouge as he stepped over it. Settled into the gouge was a blackened oval shape, approximately three metres long and maybe two metres wide. It was streaming steam and green light and its back end was open. Jack took a brief look inside. It was empty.

"Whatever arrived, got out," he said. Tapping his communication link in his right ear he contacted their base. "Tosh? You got anything? Whatever was in this thing has ‘left the building’, no sign of it."

"Nothing yet, Jack," she said. "Nothing our sensors can pick up anyway. I've been tracking its arrival through every CCTV camera and monitoring array I can find and although I know roughly where it came from, I can't tell you what it is. It's the same size of some of the escape pods we've seen but not identifiable I'm afraid, sorry."

"Thanks Tosh, keep trying. We need to know what we're facing out here.”

Ianto had moved a little way back towards the house, his eyes on the gouge. Something was holding his interest there and Jack moved to see what it was. As he made his way through a ruined flower bed, a movement caught his eye to the left, a darker patch in the darkness of the hedge. Owen and Gwen were still at the house, too far away to do anything. Without thinking, Jack launched himself, catching Jones heavily in his side, bowling him out of the way just as something lunged out of the shadows of the shrubbery, wicked-looking bladed arms slashing towards him. If Jack had not hit him full force and knocked him out of the way, the blades would neatly have sliced his head from his shoulders. Rolling away and onto his feet as the thing leapt past, Jack's Webley cracked, the muzzle flash lighting up the darkness. The thing screeched, but wasn't stopped. As it came in fast, Jack drew his knife, was dimly aware of Gwen's cry of alarm and Owen running down towards them. It closed in almost too fast to follow, slashed again, then its screech was cut short with another boom, this time from Jones's gun. He was still on the ground, on his back, but his arms were extended, gun pointing unwaveringly at the creature. It was still something of a lucky shot, straight to the head, through the jutting jaw and up into its cranium. The misshapen head exploded, scattering black blood and bits of flesh all over. Its body dropped heavily to the ground, blood pumping into the grass.

"Jack? Jack!" The voice got to him through a sea of pain. He opened his eyes to see Ianto Jones looking down at him. He knew he was badly hurt, he was lying in a rapidly spreading pool of his own blood. The metallic scent was sharp in his nostrils and he felt sick and light headed. Jones was on his knees by his side, worried eyes gazing into his. "You saved my life," he said, voice shaking, something Jack had never seen before. "God, Jack…" Ianto looked down at the damage and paled. A hand fisted into his coat lapel and he was pulled closer.

"Finish it," Jack said, rasping through gritted teeth.

Owen got to his side, examined the damage and shook his head, briefly. "Sorry, mate," he said gently. Jack nodded, once, understanding.

"Ianto..." He had never called his boss by his first name, ever. Jones looked at him in surprise. "Finish it for me, please."

"What? I…"

"It's a belly wound… _sir,_ " he ground out. "Do you know what that means?" Ianto shook his head and Jack grimaced. "I'm dying, and you know it."

"But you'll come back? He'll come back, won't he?" 

Ianto looked desperately at Owen who shrugged. "Always has before," the doctor said matter-of-factly.

"Belly wounds are bad. I've seen…enough of them…to know." The effort to speak was costing Jack. “I could take.. _.hours_ to die. It'll poison me…in agony…do you want that?"

"We can get you back to the Hub. Owen can make you comfortable, get the pain under control..."

"No!"

"No?"

"Ianto, please, just…" Jack’s voice gave out.

"I think he wants you to kill him, sir," Owen said helpfully.

"What? How? Do I shoot him? Here?" There was an edge of panic to the normally cool exterior.

"No…knife…" Jack's voice was a whisper, but the hand in Ianto's lapel still gripped like steel. Ianto saw the knife where Jack had let go of it, lying nearby. He reached for it. His palm was suddenly clammy, slippery. He dried it on the knee of his trousers and gripped the hilt of the razor sharp hunting blade more firmly. With his other hand he prised Jack's away from his lapel and laced their fingers together.

"Are you sure?" Jack nodded, seeing the resolve harden in Ianto's eyes.

"Quicker this way," Jack reassured. "I'll suffer less..."

Gwen was by his side now too, closely followed by Andy.

"Get him out of here!" Jones ordered and Gwen shepherded a protesting Andy back towards the house, her eyes worried. Ianto turned back to Jack. "If you don't come back, I'll bloody kill you," he muttered, raising a smile from the stricken man beside him. He placed the knife over the breastbone, but moments later, Owen gently repositioned his hand with the knife below Jack's ribs. "Sorry, sir, but you'll not be able to go through the sternum, too hard. Up and under, easier."

"Bloody Hell, Owen! You're the doctor, can't you do this?" Ianto tried hard to stop the pleading in his voice.

"No, he asked _you_ to do it," Owen said, surprisingly gently.

Ianto braced himself, his eyes never leaving Jack's. He was surprised to see such trust in them. Then before he could change his mind, he thrust, hard and fast, the blade going in easily, frighteningly easily. 

Jack's sigh was one of relief as the breath left his body, his eyes closed, his last sight being Ianto. He smiled, briefly, as the darkness took him. _If ever I do die for good,_ he thought, _if he's the last thing I see, I'll be happy._


	3. Learning Curve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Jones is on a learning curve, but will he be able to adapt to the situation? The boys finally get together.

Waking was bad, again. His in-drawn breath was a painful gasp back into life. Jack coughed, his mouth and throat dry, his lungs starved of oxygen. He gradually became aware of his surroundings, realizing that for once he was in a bed, not a body bag. He opened heavy eyes to see nothing but a bright blur. Someone moved close, he felt his arm being gripped and a sharp scratch in the muscle. He blinked, his vision cleared sufficiently to see Ianto Jones sitting on the bed, an empty hypodermic syringe in his hand.

"Welcome back," he said. "Almost given up on you." He was smiling though. He eyed the syringe. "Owen wanted me to do this, said you always have a wicked headache when you come back. Thought this might help. Hope I didn't hurt you, I'm not used to giving injections."

Jack blinked again, his vision clearing completely this time. His head had the beginnings of the familiar crushing headache that coming back always brought with it but it was fading rapidly. "Good for Owen," he muttered, his voice was rusty. "Thank him for me."

"How do you feel?"

"I've been better. Wouldn't worry about hurting me," Jack replied, nodding at the hand holding the syringe. "I recall you stabbed me with something bigger than that."

"God, Jack!" A laugh escaped. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were still flirting!" Ianto shook his head with exasperation. "I am glad to see you back." The words were heartfelt and honest.

"You are?"

"Yes, I am…" Ianto stood up, dropped the syringe into a metal bowl on the desk, turning his back to the man in the bed. Jack was surprised to note that Ianto had lost his immaculate veneer. He looked tired, red-eyed and dishevelled. His tie was off and his collar was open revealing more of the smooth chest than jack was comfortable with at that moment. He had rolled his shirt sleeves up, and his hair was mussed. As Jack watched, Ianto sat behind his desk, leaned his elbows on the top and put his head in his hands. The bed was in Ianto's office, the sofa bed that he rarely used, there in case of horrendously late nights working. Jack began to shake, reaction setting in. He was cold too, as his metabolism got used to being alive again.

"Is that normal?" Ianto asked, seeing the condition he was in.

Jack barked a laugh. "Define normal! Nothing about this is normal," he said, shaking his head in frustration. He suddenly realised that he was naked under the duvet, wondered briefly who had undressed him, and then realised he really didn’t care. He had to admit that it was good to be in a bed, albeit in _this_ bed. The familiar ache somewhere south of his navel had nothing to do with returning from the dead. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Jack, about what you were telling me before…" Ianto looked at him gravely. "I'm sorry but I'm not letting you go so easily."

 _Here it comes,_ he thought, _about how I'm such a good little operative they can't afford to lose me, about how there's no one to replace me…_

"I thought I'd lost you." Ianto's voice was odd, almost choked. That was a surprise. Jack opened his eyes and looked at him, but he was staring at the desk. "I'm...sorry, Jack…" he scrubbed at his eyes with his hands. "…but I've never had direct experience of you dying before. I've never had to kill anyone like that before either…"

"You knew I was coming back," Jack pointed out.

"I _thought_ you were, there's a difference," Ianto said vehemently. "I didn't _know_. I'll never know for certain, I'll always worry, every time, in case one day…" He paused, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "…in case one day you don't."

Jack studied the younger man carefully. He had never seen him display so much emotion before. "Jack, you hold things together for me, for us. I'm the boss, but you…you're the glue, the confidence, the energy. Every time I'm out there, you're there too. How am I going to carry on without that?"

"Of course you can. You did at Canary Wharf?"

"Hardly," he replied. "I did that because I had to."

"So? You have to do this."

"Jack, I…" Ianto paused, sighed again, then got up from behind the desk and came round to lean against the front of it. “That's the difference between you and I. I'm the leader because I do what is expected of me. You, you make people want to do what you expect of them!" He fixed Jack with an intense stare. "I need to know something from you. I…I tend to hold back, I'm not good at revealing how I feel…"

"Neither am I, sir," Jack admitted.

"Oh, for God's sake, Jack, drop the 'sir'!" Ianto snapped. "It’s driving me nuts!"

Startled, Jack frowned. He struggled to sit, aware that this conversation didn't seem right to face prone. He felt at a distinct disadvantage as his boss stood over him. It was far from a good idea however. His head thudded painfully, despite the painkiller Owen had sent, and he felt dizzy and suddenly sick. He groaned, protesting at the pain.

"Easy, Jack," Ianto said urgently. "For God's sake, take things steady." Gentle hands fell on his shoulders, easing him back against the pillows. "Don't try to move so fast."

"I'm fine," Jack muttered.

"Well, I'm not!" Ianto paced the floor, frustration and anger showing through the normally cool facade. "Tell me, am I seeing things that are not there or are you…do you…?" Ianto stopped, growled with exasperation at his inability to articulate what he felt. "I catch you flicking glances my way when you think I'm not looking. I know when you're looking at me, you know that? I can _feel_ your eyes on me. When we're together, sometimes I get the feeling you want to talk and then you don't say anything. You always serve me coffee before anyone else. Around me, you hold yourself back as if you don't dare let go, yet you're all smiles and Mr Happy with the others. You stand as close to me as you can get, as if you'd like to get closer. You used to smile. Your grin would light up the room when you saw me. That's gone…Am I near the truth of any of this or am I way off?"

Jack was quiet. He didn't know what to say. Ianto had neatly pinned him, everything he had thought he was doing so subtly, it had all been so bloody obvious to this man who missed nothing where his team were concerned. He felt foolish.

"So it’s true then?" Ianto Jones asked gently. "Maybe I’m I seeing something that isn't there? Are you attracted to me, Jack Harkness, or am I just fucked in the head?"

Jack nodded, not trusting himself to speak. When he did, it was quiet. "That's why I have to go,” he insisted. “I need to get out, to transfer. I can't be here anymore. I won't be here to get what I feel for you thrown back in my face. This job is hard enough without facing something every day of my life that I know I can't have, until I have to watch it grow old and die without having had the chance to…" he stopped, sighed gustily. "Without having the chance to show it how I feel."

"Jack, I said I'm not letting you go. End of story." Ianto was looking at him steadily. "Let's face it, I might not get the chance to grow old and die myself. In case you haven't noticed, Torchwood has no pension scheme. They haven't yet needed one." He sat on the edge of the bed again, took hold of Jack's hand and laced the fingers through his in recollection of the last time.

Jack looked at their linked hands. "That was…well done, by-the-way," he admitted. "Hurt like hell, but not half as much as it would have. I, er…I haven't thanked you properly."

Ianto's eyes were unreadable, bleak and troubled. "I've never had to administer a coup de grace before," he said softly.

"You see, you're learning new things all the time," Jack offered, the familiar smile in place again.

"Yeah, mercy killing and injections, all in one day," Ianto said, but he was smiling, albeit crookedly, Jack was relieved to see. Jack had doubted just how much the young man had been affected by the day's events. He studied Ianto silently. The man was so handsome when he smiled…

"You saved my life," Ianto was saying and Jack dragged his attention back to the conversation. "In case you hadn't noticed, I can't come back from the dead like you can. You should have asked me Jack, you should have said something. Not like the Jack Harkness I know to lack courage.”

Suddenly Jack was drawn into a firm embrace, strong arms gently lifting him to a sitting position, wrapping firmly round his back and holding him close. Ianto's breath ghosted across his ear, down his neck, face pressed into his hair. Jack responded fiercely, his own arms twining round Ianto's body, his face close to the younger man's neck. 

“We should be remaining professional,” Ianto said ruefully. “I’m your boss, and we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah, well, maybe we shouldn’t be chasing aliens but somebody has to…” 

They sat like that for what seemed like an age, comfortable with the contact, but it was Ianto who broke the connection, sitting back almost reluctantly. Next moment, one hand cupped Jack's chin and the other slipped behind his neck and Ianto's mouth fastened over his in an experimental kiss that took his breath away. He leaned into the embrace, yielding completely, then returning it with enthusiasm, unable to believe it was happening. 

“What happened to _we shouldn’t be doing this_?” Jack murmured.

Ianto sat back, breathless and wide eyed. "Not sure if I could stop if I wanted to,” Ianto admitted, then licked his lips. “Well, that was…interesting," he said. "Never kissed a man before."

"Could have fooled me," Jack murmured, eyes half closed. "Another first? You're learning a lot today." Suddenly his eyes snapped open, he looked at Ianto in shock. "You mean you're…you've never…" He swallowed. “Seriously?”

Ianto's laugh was throaty. "I've never done it with a man before, but I'm not a virgin, Jack," he said. "Sorry to disappoint you there." Suddenly he yawned mightily, running a hand through his hair. "God. Sorry," he said apologetically. "After today, I'm just about asleep on my feet."

"What time is it?" Jack had no idea. The Hub was quiet, but he figured everybody must be working. Ianto looked at his watch. "3:30am," he said, smothered another yawn with his hand and tried to smile but it got lost somewhere.

"Damn," Jack swore. "It’s the middle of the night. How long was I out?”

“Long enough to make me worry…”

“You need sleep, never mind me."

"Well, I said I wouldn't leave you," Ianto replied defensively. "Owen was insistent. It was the only way I could get him to go home was to put you to bed here, and stay with you." Ianto ran a hand around his neck, trying to ease the stiffness. Jack didn't hesitate, he threw back the top corner of the duvet and just gave Ianto a look.

"Oh no, no, I couldn't…" Ianto was unaccountably flustered.

"Why not?"

"The others…"

"…won’t know..."

"But it really wouldn't be appropriate..."

"Now you’re not making sense. I thought were were throwing out _appropriate_. I think we're way beyond that now, don't you? You need to sleep and I am not letting you go home now."

"Jack…"

"Look, Ianto…" His name, spoken so gently, so insistently, made him pause. "Don't ask questions. Don't think. Just come to bed. I won't...try to initiate anything, I promise." Jack watched Ianto's resolve weaken and he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed again. Jack swung his legs out of the bed, ending up sitting beside Ianto, just managing to keep his dignity covered with the duvet. Ianto glanced at him as he moved closer, reached for him and ran a hand along his arm. Jack found the shirt buttons and unfastened them all, tugging his shirt loose and peeling it off.

"Damn, I ache," Ianto admitted. "I think I'm coming down with something."

"See Owen in the morning," Jack suggested. "I did throw you to the ground after all."

"I'm not that bad, you've no need to worry."

"I'm not worried, but you are coming to bed," Jack insisted. "Besides, if you are coming down with something, I think know a good way to sweat it out of you..." His look was so comically lecherous that Ianto couldn't help but laugh. He did, however, submit to Jack's orders meekly and allowed him to divest him of the rest of his clothes. It was odd, getting into the bed with the man who, up until a scant few moments ago had been his subordinate. Ianto felt somehow that those roles had been subtly reversed, he being the one taking the orders all of a sudden. Jack lay down beside him and offered his arms. Ianto mutely came within his embrace again, resting his head on Jack's shoulder.

"I'm still your boss," he murmured, "and I'm still not sure this is entirely appropriate."

"Well, since when did the word 'appropriate' apply to Torchwood anyway?" Jack asked reasonably, his breath caressing Ianto's hair "That kiss wasn't _appropriate_ , it was _necessary_. We're a family, we're a team, we work together, grieve together, why the hell shouldn't we love each other too? Love in any form always beats the dark," he said, as if quoting something, or someone.

"Where d'you get that from?"

"Someone I knew once," was all he said. Jack closed his eyes, suddenly felt a soft touch against his cheek. Ianto's fingers grazed his skin. "How are you feeling?"

"It gets better every minute.” Jack took a deep breath. "How are you?"

"Just tired," Ianto admitted, his eyelids drooping.

"Go to sleep…sir," Jack suggested, then exhaled sharply as Jones' fist hit him in the ribs "Ooft! Please, sir," he murmured huskily. "Be gentle with me…"

"Harkness, I ought to beat the living shit out of you," Ianto murmured. "You said you wouldn't touch me." Blue eyes studied him from inches away. Then, abruptly, he rolled upright and left the bed. Jack immediately missed the warmth of his body but appreciatively watched the rear view of smooth skin, muscles rippling as he moved. He padded to the desk and rummaged in a drawer, retrieving a small black box with four buttons on it and depressed one. Immediately all the Office windows turned opaque and dark, polarized for privacy. Another one dimmed the lights to a comfortable glow. The third secured the door, its 'ca-click' locking them in. Then he put the control on the desk and turned.

Jack's breath caught in his throat. Ianto Jones was absolutely _beautiful_ \- long, strong legs, flat stomach and hard pads of the pectorals perfectly displayed, among other things. He couldn't fail to notice _that_ , the generous endowment he had been hiding under his formal clothing. Seeing jack's eyes on him, a blush crept across his face but he got right back into the bed, sliding under the covers and fitting that warm and beautiful body alongside Jack's. A sigh escaped Jack’s lips as he felt the welcome warmth. He was pulled into a rough embrace and Ianto murmured, "Go to sleep Jack." He had no choice other than to obey the implacable order. Closing his eyes, Jack tried to ignore the hammering of his heart and the more insistent response from elsewhere while he tried to still his mind to a point where he could rest. Jones had no such problem, he was asleep and snoring softly in minutes.


	4. Breaking Down Barriers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking down the barriers, unresolved issues and a final disagreement. Will they each see the other's point of view?

Jack woke with a start, disorientated for a moment. Then the events of the previous night rushed back and he wondered if it had all been a dream. The bed was rumpled and there was no sign of Jones, but the windows were still dark, the door was open, and the place was still quiet. He lay where he was, reluctant to rise and face the day. Then Jack heard feet on the steps up to the office level and there was Ianto, shirtless, carrying a tray. Coffee steamed invitingly, and fresh buttered toast was piled high on a plate.

"You're awake," Ianto said with a grin, putting the tray on his desk. "I made breakfast. I doubt the coffee will be as good as yours, but I did my best. I thought it best to get up early, as the others will be here soon. Best not to face them before having had something to eat. So, how do you feel now?"

"Fine…did we…last night? Did I dream…?"

Ianto was smiling broadly. "No, not a bit of it. We slept together, in that bed, you and I entwined like lovers." Ianto laughed at his own cliche, but he sounded happy. "Why?" His face fell. "You...um...you don't regret it, do you? Please tell me you're not having second thoughts."

"No, no, of course not." Jack said and was gratified to see the relief on Jones' face. "I just couldn't believe it for a moment there. When I found you gone, I…"

"…thought the worst?" Ianto offered. "Sorry."

Jack sighed. "Best night of my life," he said gently.

"Bollocks!" Ianto challenged. "We didn't even do anything. I bet you've had much better, shagging some alien in some distant galaxy…"

Jack smirked and said nothing, then shook his head. "Believe me, there is nothing like sharing a bed with a member of your own species, especially when you have feelings for them. Sure, I can remember great sex, amazing sensations, fantastic orgasms... Some species make amazing prostitutes," he said almost absently, a far-away look in his eyes. "Yet they've got nothing on how it feels to know your feelings are returned." His eyes focussed on Ianto's. The younger man's mouth was open in amazement.

"You are not kidding, are you?" he said and Jack laughed.

"No, I'm not, get used to it. Aliens are real, Ianto. Did Canary Wharf not teach you that?" he was unprepared for the response his words evoked. It was like shutters coming down. Ianto's eyes closed, he clamped his lips shut, and his brow furrowed. Then he abruptly stood up and left, almost running. Jack shot to his feet, calling after him but he was beyond stopping. The gate alarm went and Jack swore, the others were coming in. Damn it, where had he run to? Jack went out in time to see them all come tumbling through the door, laughing at something.

"God, put some clothes on, Jack," Owen shouted up, his words making both women look skywards to see their colleague on the balcony above.

"Oh, my God," Gwen giggled.

"Have you seen Ianto?" Jack called down and received puzzled looks all round.

"So it’s _Ianto_ now, is it?" Owen said, nudging a snickering Gwen. "What d'you do Jack? Frighten him silly? Or did the Boss insist on shagging the Tea Boy?"

"Shut up, Owen," Tosh snapped, receiving a puzzled look from the doctor. She looked up at Jack and said, "When did he go?"

"Less than a minute ago."

"Well, we didn't pass him," she said helpfully, "and we didn't see him, so he might be in the archives?" Jack disappeared, returning minutes later fully dressed and sliding down the steps as fast as he could.

"What happened?" Gwen asked, sounding worried.

"My fault, I mentioned Canary Wharf before I could stop myself..."

"Oh, you prize Tosser," Owen said. "Way to go, Jack."

"Owen, check the medical bay," Tosh suggested. "Gwen, go down to the shooting range and Jack, you take the archives. I'll stay here in case he comes back. Did you check the kitchen?"

"I haven't checked anywhere. He'd only just gone as you came in."

"Right, I'll do that. Well, get to it," she said firmly and went off to check. 

Jack followed the corridor down into the basement area of the complex. He didn't have to look far before he heard the sound. Soft muted sobbing. He walked slowly, carefully, until he came out into one of the archive storage areas.

"Ianto?"

"Don't," came the reply, stiff and cold.

"I'm sorry, it was thoughtless of me..."

"Nothing anyone can do, just leave me alone."

"Uh-uh, no can do, Ianto," he said, moving carefully between the boxes.

"I..I'm alright. Just let me be alone, please?"

Jack rounded the corner of a filing cabinet, looked down and found him, huddled on the floor against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees. Jack slid down the wall until he was sitting next to him, slipped an arm round his shoulders and pulled him close. At first he resisted, but Jack kept up the pressure and eventually Ianto fell against him, burying his face in Jack's chest.

"Let it go Yan, don't let it eat you up."

Hearing his name shortened to the pet name his mother used to call him, he suddenly lost all pretence, gave himself up to the grief, clinging sobbing as if his heart was breaking. It probably was, Jack thought, wondering if he had ever allowed himself to grieve this much. It was a long time to go without release of some sort. It spoke volumes about the steel in the young man's character.

"I…I f.f.failed her," he stammered, gulping back the sobs. "She was alive…" The horror of it filled him. "Broken, bleeding…." he gasped, stifled another sob. "She was so hurt, so betrayed…" He looked into Jack's eyes, seeing only compassion, understanding. "S.s.she was frightened, she'd lost…" He stopped for a moment, eyes closed. "Her skull… shattered…One of her arms was smashed, she was trying to move…" Jack stroked the short dark hair, murmuring soothing shushing noises, but it was clear Ianto wanted to tell him, wanted to voice the revulsion he felt. "Her back was broken, her ribs... God, Jack, everything was…there was blood everywhere, but she was still alive!" Ianto’s eyes were haunted and Jack mentally kicked himself for having triggered this response in the younger man. "I held her, Jack, held her until she died. I couldn't do anything else. What could I have done? There was no one Jack, no one to help, just us in the wreckage..." Ianto was very obviously back there, seeing it over again, his broken girl in his arms, his life shattered along with her body. "I told her to go, Jack. I told her not to stay because of me. I felt the life leave her, Jack, I felt it go. The last thing she saw was me..."

"When you killed me," Jack said gently, "out there in that garden, the last thing I saw was you. The last thing I saw were your eyes. You never took your eyes off mine. If that's what she saw, then she'd have died feeling safe," he reassured. "I remember thinking, if I ever do die, if the last thing I ever see is you, I'll die happy. I know she did the same, Ianto." Jack continued to stroke Ianto’s hair, calmly, soothingly. Eventually, the sobbing calmed to snuffles. "There, I'm so sorry, Yan," he said gently. "Owen called me a prize Tosser, and I guess he's right."

"No, no, don't blame yourself," Ianto urged. "It just took me by surprise, that's all, and would you stop calling me Yan. My mother called me that and she died when I was twelve."

"Aw Hell, Ya..Ianto, I'm sorry. I…" Gentle fingers were laid on his lips to quiet him. He looked into the blue eyes and frowned. Ianto smiled, a brave attempt, but it cost him. Jack struggled to his feet and held out a hand.

"Come on, let's get you back. The others will be wondering."

"Oh God, no, tell me they don't know," he groaned.

"Well, what was I going to do? You ran out on me just as they came in. They're looking for you too." He helped Ianto to his feet and held out a handkerchief.

"Hell and Damnation, Jack, I'm supposed to be the boss!" Ianto whipped the handkerchief out of his fingers and blew his nose, hard. "I can't fall apart like that!"

"Yes, you can. You're the boss, never doubt that." jack stood away, giving him a respectful distance. "You're also human though, and you’re allowed to need help once in a while. As I said, we're a family. We support each other, we help each other, we stick together. You're part of the team, if you'd let yourself be. Come and eat with us once in a while, come and have a drink with us. We don't bite. If you think the way to maintain your control is by keeping yourself above us, then think again. We don't work like that. When she was sane, Suzie was _always_ part of the gang. So was Alex. My point being, we knew they were part of it all, right in there with us."

"And I'm not?"

Jack raised his eyes heavenward. "Damn it, Yan…"

"I told you…"

"Sorry! Ianto! Mr Jones! Sir!" he burst out. "Whatever! My point being, if you let yourself go a little, you'd know how we operate, you'd know that we'd never usurp your authority, that we'd never take advantage. You're the Boss and for this thing to work, you need to be able to trust us.”

"A job you wanted, once," Ianto shot back. "Can you tell me you're not just waiting for me to fuck up, and then step into my shoes?"

"Why bother?" Jack answered. "If you fuck up, somebody else will be chosen, not me. I know Ianto, I'm not stupid. They're all afraid of me, of what I can do. They'll never promote me, ever. Best I can manage is doing what I do now, being part of the team, and who knows, maybe fucking the boss now and again, if he'll let me?" He grinned, showing white teeth. For a moment, Jack didn't know what Ianto would do, or say. He simply stood there, unmoving. "In case you're interested," Jack said eventually, if only to break the silence, "I am proud to work with you, Ianto Jones. I read your file, read what you did after…" he stopped short of mentioning when and where. "That took guts, as did coming here." He smiled and held out a hand. "I'm sorry if I've been…hard to work with? You _can_ trust me, you can trust all of us. We already know we can trust you. Besides, any relationship you and I try to have is never gonna work if we don’t trust each other, hm?"

Ianto took a deep breath and gazed into Jack's eyes, then he took his hand and shook it. "I know I can trust you, Jack," he admitted. "I've know that for a long time, but I've been so far up my own arse I've forgotten what's important. Come on, let's go call off the manhunt. You can tell them you rescued me from the grip of some monstrous alien fiend…"

"Yourself, you mean?" Jack laughed. Ianto laughed with him and was still chuckling as they emerged into the Hub again. Owen stuck his head out of the autopsy room and frowned "Crisis over then?" he asked. "Can we cancel Red Alert?"

"Ianto!" Tosh cried, rushing over and hugging him, then remembering herself and stepping back, uncertain.

"Come here!" he growled and pulled her back again, wrapping his arms round her and almost lifting her off her feet. Gwen arrived and got the same treatment. He turned to Owen who backed off, holding up a hand. "Sorry Boss, I'm crap at male bonding!" but was dragged into a hug anyway and it ended up a five-way with them all grouped around him. Eventually they broke and stood around him, four people who would die for him, four people he would die for.

"I owe you all an apology. No! hear me out!" he said as they started to protest. "Jack reminded me of something, something I've been neglecting recently. I may be the Boss but I've not been very communicative since I arrived. I'm sorry for that and I hope I can change things. I understand we're a close knit group, or we should be, and my door is always open, to anyone, any time. Always providing the bloody rift stays closed," he added, listening to the resulting laughter with a smile of his own. "Let's get back to it, people. The rift won't wait. Tosh, keep searching for anything you can find on that pod from yesterday. Gwen, I want you on clean up today, send out the standard press release, make sure we didn't miss anyone with the Retcon. UNIT took the craft and we'll need to get the findings as soon as they've got anything, but I think it might be nice to send someone to sort the garden out for those people, that swing was pretty well busted up. Kid's'll be upset. Send them a new one, present from The Community Action Team, very sorry to hear about the accident, etc, etc, you know the drill." She nodded and went to her workstation. 

“Community Action Team?” Jack enquired.

“Our cover,” Ianto said. “Not sure they’d trust getting anything from Torchwood, after all. Owen, I presume you're still dissecting that thing?" Ianto received an affirmative nod.

"It's a bit difficult without much of a head but I'm on it,but I’ll do my best, as I always do," Owen replied, and disappeared back into the autopsy room.

In the silence which followed, Ianto glanced at Jack.

"What about me?" Jack asked, feeling left out. The others all had their jobs.

"Well, after last night and this morning, I'm finished," Ianto paused. "Look at me, I'm a wreck." He held his hand out, noticing the slight shaking. "Couldn’t lift a gun like this, never mind shoot." Ianto huffed down his nose. "What you must be feeling…" He raised his eyebrows. "My office, Jack, now." He strode off, climbing the steps two at a time, not waiting to see if he was followed. Gwen and Tosh watched them as they passed by.

"Sir?" Tosh said from below. "Do you want us to field all calls?"

Ianto paused and looked back down from the balcony. He smiled, especially when he realised Jack was following him. "Yes, Tosh, thank you. Give us a couple of hours. I'm in a meeting, the Captain and I have some unfinished business." He went inside. Jack followed, seeing the cold coffee and toast. Wordlessly he took the tray and went back out to the kitchen. He made everybody coffee, serving the others first for once, then took his and Ianto's upstairs to the office. As he closed the door, there was a 'ca-click' as it locked pointedly behind him, the windows polarised again as the lights dimmed.

"Ah, that's better," Ianto said, from his position on the bed, still clothed but stretched out, arms above his head.

"Coffee," Jack said, placing it on the desk again, turning to admire the body stretched out below him.

"Thank you. Jack, come here." Ianto patted the bed. Jack sat, looking down at him, waiting.

"After everything we've said to each other," Ianto said softly, "where do we go from here?"

"Where do you want to go?" Jack asked. "I know where I wanna go."

"And where would that be?"

"Anywhere you do."

Ianto gave a great snort of laughter and said through teary eyes, "God, Jack, that has got to be the worst chat up line ever! Harkness, you are a terrible flirt. Get those clothes off and get into this bed now before I figure out what a terrible mistake I'm making…”

"Is that what you think?" Jack asked seriously. "Do you really think this is a bad idea?"

Ianto paused and studied him intently. "No, Jack," he said gently, laughter forgotten. "No, I don't. In fact, it’s probably the best thing that's happened to me for a long time." He found his face cupped in strong hands, drawn into a deep kiss that left him gasping and wanting more, much more. His hands roamed down Jack's ribs, fingers touching heated skin, feeling bones and muscles contoured under his fingertips. Jack was devouring him, his tongue exploring, teeth nipping and teasing. He was held in a grip like iron, hard and relentless. He wound his arms round Jack's neck and dragged him even closer, feeling the need in Jack's body even as he felt his own desire spiralling out of control. Jack dragged the t-shirt over his head, breathing hard, impatience making him clumsy. He stood up to shed his trousers, dropping them round his ankles and kicking them away. Then he saw Ianto looking at him. The look in his half-closed eyes was an odd mix of hunger, desire and fear. He saw the younger man swallow, mouth partly open, panting. Then Jack remembered what he had said, he had never kissed a man before. Sure, he wasn't a virgin, but he hadn't sounded very confident either. Jack sat down on the bed and looked him in the eye. "Ianto, are you sure?" he didn't have to be more specific. Ianto understood what he was asking.

"No, I'm not sure of anything," he admitted. "But if I know one thing, Jack, I know that if I can't trust you with this, I can't trust you with anything, and I do trust you, Jack Harkness, or whatever your name really is, with my life."

For answer, Jack began to kiss him again, sucking on his bottom lip, his tongue exploring Ianto's mouth again. Kisses were placed gently on his eyelids, Jack's tongue played with an ear lobe, fingers pressed against his throat over the rapid pulse. Working his way down the man’s chest, each nipple was suckled hard, bitten playfully, his tongue lapping and teasing. He went lower, feeling Ianto's fingers carding through his hair as his tongue traced patterns on the flat stomach, feeling the muscles tighten as he did so. He swirled his tongue around Ianto's belly button, hearing his gasp, feeling his back arch beneath him. Lower still, nuzzling, slowly coming closer to his goal. Ianto's eyes flew open, his breath clogged in his throat, he moaned, arched his back, Jack's hands clamped on his hips, holding him firmly down. Jack's mouth sealed round the hard cock, his tongue swirling round, stabbing the entrance, teeth nipping the tender flesh. Ianto threw his head back and moaned, long and loud. Jack wondered briefly if the office was soundproofed, then realised he didn't care. He wondered if Ianto might though, but he seemed to be past caring. When Jack started to suck, Ianto's whole body stiffened. He fisted his hands in the bedclothes, knuckles turning white. He threw his head back, grunted, gasping, forgetting to breath.

"Ianto!" Jack said, seeing glazed eyes roll in his direction. "Breathe into it, don't forget to breathe." Ianto's chest heaved, then fell, heaved and fell, then Jack went to work on him again, sucking in time with the deep breaths. Ianto lost all sense of time. He felt gentle fingers in places where they really shouldn't be, massaging carefully, the sensation of something cold and slick… Suddenly the edges of his vision whitened out and his senses reeled...

"Ianto! Ianto!" Somebody calling him. The blackness at the edge of his vision receded. He blinked, and found Jack, sitting between his legs. He looked around, realised where he was, felt the sensations wash over him again. "What happened?"

"You nearly passed out." Jack was laughing. 

"Thanks for your concern." 

Jack shook his head. “Too intense for you?”

“It’s...amazing...but…” 

“What do you want, Ianto?”

“Everything, Jack… Just...a bit slower?”

“Oh, I can be slow,” Jack said, smiling. He pressed his fingers into the gorgeous man underneath him, watched him gasp and writhe and pant. Fucking the beautiful body in his arms, Jack wondered at how they had reached this connection. 

Ianto whimpered, feeling the powerful sensations swamp his senses again. "This time, Gorgeous," Jack was saying, "Don't forget to breathe!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It took him a long time to surface. He was in bed, alone. There was no sound anywhere, the Hub was quiet. Oh God, he felt so…weary. He woke with a jolt, coming fully awake when he realised he had said to Tosh to give them two hours. He got to his feet, tested his legs to make sure they were working and then stood.

Then he spied the note on the desk in Jack's scrawl. "Report in from Police. 999 calls made, thefts, fighting, White Hart Pub, James Street. Witnesses report what sounds like a blowfish. Going to investigate. Be back soon."

"Shit!" he swore loudly, dragged his clothes on and went down to take a look at the monitors. He located the SUV with no difficulty, it was in the garage, just pulling in. Moments later the door alarm went off and they tumbled in, looking exhausted.

"So whose idea was it to leave me behind?"

They stopped dead, hearing the threat level in his voice.

"That would be me," Jack said. "You passed out."

"And you didn't tell me?" Owen said.

Ianto held Jack's gaze, eyes narrowed, then he chuckled. It was Jack's turn to narrow his eyes, his expression uncertain. "You're not mad,” he said. “Now I'm worried."

"Good," Ianto said gently. "Did it go well?"

"yes, the thing's dead though, crashed a car and blew itself up."

"Ran into a tree, very messy," Owen explained. "Still, nice neat ending, turning itself into sushi like that. Saved us the problem of what to do with him."

"Okay. I hesitate to say good work, because it’s probably not the best outcome, and I will expect the usual reports on my desk by tomorrow morning," Ianto said, re-establishing command.

"You feeling OK?" Jack asked, tentatively.

"Yes, fine. Jack, I need a word, now." Ianto went back up to his office, strode behind his desk and sat down.

"Sir," Jack said, coming to smart attention in front of the desk.

"Drop the 'Sir', I thought I told you about that."

"Sorry, yes, you did."

"Don't make decisions for me, Jack. You said you wouldn't usurp my leadership and you neatly make a choice on my behalf to leave me here when we distinctly had a problem. What were you thinking of?"

"I was not making a choice for you," Jack said gently. "I was trying to look after you."

"Jack…"

"Ianto, please, just hear me out."

Ianto sighed and nodded. "Go ahead then."

"I can't help it if I care about you, but I made my decision based on your competency to undertake the mission, not on how much I...how much I care for you. You were far from competent when that call came in. Before we...made love, your hands were trembling, you said yourself you couldn't hold a gun, never mind fire one. That cathartic episode this morning, my death last night, staying up most of last night with me, then our…exercise..." he shrugged. "I think I made a bad call there, I should have waited."

"Jack, I enjoyed it. I needed it. Hells Bells, I needed something!" Ianto protested.

"But not right then. Look, I made the decision, I admit that, but it was based on logical choice after an assessment of your physical condition."

"I'm sure Owen will be pleased to hear you think you know more about it than he does. Why didn't you ask him?"

"Because I could see it with my own eyes. Why did I need Owen to tell me you were exhausted? If I'd woken you, can you honestly say you would have been able to carry out your duty in the field without compromising the situation?"

"That's not the point. The point is, you made the choice without consulting anyone."

Jack was angry now. "You said you trusted me. Well put your goddamned money where your mouth is and do it then, trust my judgement for once! You were not fit to go out and you don't want to admit it. Well, it’s about time you asked yourself how much you do trust me then. I make decisions in the field every day, without consulting anyone. If you really do trust me with your life, then you need to ask yourself what you feel I'm qualified to make a decision about!" He turned on his heel and left, expecting any moment to be called back, to be called to account for leaving before he was dismissed, but none came.

He left the hub, taking a walk on the wharfside in the afternoon breeze. Only this morning he had lost himself in glorious lovemaking with the man he had just fought with…he stared at the lapping water and frowned. In less than 24 hours he had died in Ianto’s arms, wakened in his bed, slept with him, held him in his arms as he wept, comforted him, made passionate love to him, and now fought with him. A whole lifetime of experiences in one day. He sighed, gustily, admitting that maybe he should have consulted Owen, covered his back. He knew he was right, he had made the decision for all the right reasons, just done it totally wrong for a man who was used to playing by the book, keeping to the rules. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. He needed to apologise and soon. He wanted Ianto again, needed him, needed his smile, not his wrath.

"Coffee?" said the voice at his elbow. He whirled. Ianto stood there, holding two mugs with steam curling off them. He passed one to Jack who took it gratefully if a little bemused. "Truce?" Ianto offered.

"Why?"

"You were right, I was wrong. How's that sound?"

"And you think this because…?"

"You made a judgement call and I need to respect that."

"Okay." Jack sipped the coffee, even better than his own. "Oh, that's good," he murmured.

"I believe that's my line," Ianto said, eliciting a laugh.

"I'm sorry," Jack said sincerely. "I should have consulted Owen."

"No, you shouldn't. I should stop being paranoid," Ianto admitted. "I was very tired and I agree, I probably wasn't fit for duty. I'll overlook the fact that we were technically on duty and probably shouldn't have…" he paused, "…fraternised, but I _do_ trust you. You make judgement calls every day, I just find it hard to allow you free rein to do that. You're a hard man to live up to, Harkness. I cannot compete, with any of it, your charm, your charisma, your…" he sighed again, "your anything."

"What?" Jack was surprised. "I read your file. I know what you did. Damn it, I can't die. Anything I risk is tinged with that knowledge. When you know nothing can touch you, you tend not to worry anymore. You don't mind taking risks, hell, it isn't even courage anymore. You, you had everything to lose and yet you did it anyway, you fought back. There's the true bravery, the honest courage. Don't underestimate yourself. You're worth more than me any day."

"Didn't do much good. Most of them died."

"But there are twenty seven people who are still breathing today because of you! The world was saved again, end of story. You've nothing to be ashamed of, Ianto Jones, nothing at all.”

They exchanged a look which spoke volumes and then Jones became brisk. "Back to work then, the rift doesn't wait," he said, turned on his heel and went back inside. Thoughtfully, Jack followed, wondering just where they would go from here.


	5. You Didn't Promise Me Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in Torchwood is unpredictable.

"Jack, a word?" Ianto looked down at Jack where he sat at his workstation trying to finish his report on the last mission they had come back from. Glad of an excuse to leave it for a while he fairly jumped up and took the stairs two at a time again.

"Sir?"

"Warned you about that, Jack," Ianto murmured. "Although I have to admit, it sounds kind of…submissive." He grinned. "Sexy."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know you were into domination?"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me yet, Jack," Ianto said, the blue eyes serious.

"What did you want to see me for, si…Ianto," Jack corrected quickly.

"How are your reports coming?"

"Nearly done."

"Good. Will you need to work late?"

"Shouldn't think so, why?"

"Oh, just an idea I had…" Jack waited to be enlightened. "I fancied to get some practice in the shooting range, if you’d like to join me? UNIT sent a couple of new weapons over, they want us to test them out. How about it?"

"Wouldn't be what was in that large crate that arrived a couple of days ago?"

"Yup, that's the one. I would appreciate your input and criticism as an experienced Torchwood operative," Ianto said, seriously.

"Fine, I'll go finish and see you in…" he glanced at his watch, "…a half hour?"

"Fine, I'll let the others go home. I think you and I can evaluate these things between us."

Half and hour later saw Jack printing his report just as the others were leaving.

"Bye, Jack," Owen said. "Take care, you'll be all alone with him soon and there'll be no one left to save you."

Gwen giggled. "I don't think he's interested in being saved exactly…" she said as Tosh swatted Owen's arm.

"Don't be awful!" Tosh said and pushed Owen out the door. "Bye, Jack," she called, happily.

Jack merely grinned and dutifully went upstairs to deliver his report and see if the boss was ready for the weapon tests. Ianto received the reports gracefully and thanked him. "Good job Jack, the guns are down there already, let's go." He lead the way out and down to their subterranean shooting range. He had removed his jacket and tie but kept his waistcoat on, unbuttoned his shirt neck and rolled the sleeves up. Obviously ready for action, Jack thought, letting his mind wander.

The large crate did indeed contain two large rifles, prototype laser weapons in fact.

"These are UNIT's babies, so we'd better give them a professional critique if we want to keep them." Ianto hefted one. "Hmm, not bad, they're lighter than they look."

Jack similarly picked one up and was surprised by the lack of weight. He raised it to his shoulder and aimed. "I presume they're charged and ready?" he asked as he lowered it and examined the barrel.

Ianto moved a lever on the side of his own gun and raised it to his shoulder. Something about his stance made Jack's mouth water. There was a professional way he handled the weapon that gave him an air of experience, of confident maturity beyond his years. Ear defenders on, he pulled the trigger. A burst of energy shot out and annihilated the head on one of the targets. Both men paused to admire the result, glancing at each other with a similar expression of appreciation.

"That was…impressive," Ianto commented, and Jack raised the gun to his shoulder.

"My turn," he said and loosed off a burst. The weapon spat short bursts of energy up the range, removing two heads and severely crippling a fourth target. There was a high pitched whine like a camera flash recharging.

"Apparently they're solar charged. They maintain the charge through the daylight, storing any excess in an intelligent computerised internal hard drive for night usage," Ianto was reading from the manual. "They can be plugged into a power output to charge up if sunlight is short supply."

"OK, so how long does the battery last? And how far is a single burst supposed to travel before it loses force?"

"Doesn't say... Oh, here it is. Battery life is eight hours fully charged. Can charge from a vehicle as well, USB or 12volt. That's useful. Here's the range, 200 metres, but its only an estimate."

Jack's finger depressed the trigger, holding it down. The shots illuminated the range as they went, flying past everything and on down the tunnel. They hit the blocked end and exploded, showering debris and shaking the walls. "Hell," he swore, as a wave of dust swept back towards them. "This tunnel is at least 400 metres long, blocked by several tons of rock fall..."

“About that,” Ianto said. “I heard this tunnel was a railway system once?”

“Yeah it was. Straight through to London. The platform was here, the Torchwood name in tiles...Right where our couch is sitting.”

“Of course it is, I’d not realised.” Ianto was smiling. 

“Got bombed in 42. Cardiff was pretty badly hit. Two of our previous operattives are buried somewhere down there…” 

“Buried?” 

“They took the train back to London, just after the sirens had gone off to announce an air raid. The whole train was buried when a 500lb bomb went off on the ground above them. Penny Prentiss and John Frost. Brilliant folks, both of them. I was away in the RAF at the time. About the time my younger self first met the Doctor…Now that was difficult, making sure I avoided the same place...” 

“Sounds like a good story.”

“It’s complicated but I’ll tell you some time. Anyway, I returned here to find the place almost destroyed. We rebuilt, but the connection to London was severed forever. We decided to use the remains of the tunnel as a range, and leave the buried train as their war grave.” 

"So if we miss with these things, we'd better be careful," Ianto said into the silence which followed "I think these need a secure field test on distance, don't you? We can't have Mrs Evan's front window exploding in Splott if we miss a weevil in Barry, can we? Come to that, we can't risk Mrs Evans exploding either.”

"And UNIT trusts us with these?" Jack's voice was a little incredulous.

Ianto laughed and spared a glance at him. Jack was standing in an aiming position, gun tucked into his shoulder. It sent a shiver down Ianto's back to watch him. The gun was almost an extension of his arm, comfortable and familiar, his stance sure, feet planted firmly on the ground. "So, now we're here," Ianto said, stepping up to stand behind the man, "shall we make use of our time alone?" Jack didn't lower the weapon, just continued staring along the barrel. 

"As I said, sir, I want to go anywhere you go."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, sir," Jack murmured. "Just awaiting your orders, sir."

"Right, Soldier," Ianto said quietly. "Put the gun down."

Jack stood down and placed the gun back in the crate. When he stood up, he came smartly to attention, shoulders back, chin up, then he saluted. Ianto wasn't sure what to do at first, Jack was giving him the lead but neatly directing the situation again. He walked round him, as if inspecting. "At ease," he said gently, and Jack's stance relaxed, feet apart, arms behind his back. Ianto began to enjoy himself. Jack was, for now, awaiting orders, his orders. "I really need to get hold of a UNIT cap for you to wear," he murmured. "It would definitely suit you…"

"Not sure that red is my colour, sir," Jack replied and Ianto laughed.

"Well then, an RAF cap maybe."

"Oh, I can oblige there," Jack said. "Kept my Group Captain's hat after the war."

"Uh-uh, rank's too high, you're my subordinate remember?"

"You could wear the hat," Jack offered. "After all, you are the one in charge. I'll wear a cap."

"Let's go back to my office," Ianto suggested huskily. Jack chuckled and followed him, carrying the crate back to the weapon's locker.

As Jack came back into the office, Ianto glanced at his notepad on his desk and swore. "Damn it, I forgot! I'm late!"

"For a very important date?" Jack quipped. "Have I got competition?" but Ianto grabbed his coat and planted a clumsy kiss on Jack's mouth. 

"She'll kill me. I told my sister I'd go for dinner tonight and its nearly 6 o'clock. Jack, I'm sorry, but I've already put her off twice. Look I…I really _am_ sorry, right?"

Jack smiled and rolled his eyes. "Go" he said. "I'll keep. I wouldn't want to be the cause of your demise."

"Damn, I'm sorry, Jack, truly." He paused at the door. "See you tomorrow?"

"You know you will," Jack said with a smile. "Get gone, Ianto. Don't keep family waiting."

He watched as the man left at a run, disappearing through the door. The gate rolled shut behind him and Jack retreated to his room, little more than a cell really, with a bed and little else. He sighed, wondering what to do. He didn't really need sleep, although he could sleep, just didn't require it. Clear some paperwork maybe, maybe clean the autopsy room before Owen came in and messed it up again? He decided the kitchen could do with a clean out. The coffee stains were building up again. He felt somewhat frustrated, but he'd survive. He couldn't make Ianto feel guilty about it. The man hadn't promised him anything after all.

Tosh and Owen were subdued the following day. It turned out he had taken her for a drink and then ended up sleeping on her sofa. She had dragged him away from a fight and taken him home with her. They had grown closer over the last couple of weeks, although they were not, as far as Jack knew, sleeping together yet. He had purposefully kept out of their relationship, having given his word to Tosh that he wouldn't say anything. The trouble was that Owen "variety-is-the-spice-of-life" Harper wanted his freedom. Tosh wanted hearts and flowers and romance and commitment. Jack, with his 51st century upbringing, hated both morals and labels. People in this century let their insecurities get in the way of living.

Owen couldn't even summon up the energy to insult him. Tosh just looked tired. Ianto was early, as usual, and Gwen was last, smiling and cheerful, settling to her work at her station without comment or complaint. Once they were all in, Jack went to get them all coffee, as usual.

"How was the dinner?" he asked as he placed the mug on Ianto's desk.

"Dinner? Oh, fine. Got trounced at scrabble by my nephews though. Uncle Ianto is out of practice."

"Missed you last night," Jack said quietly. " _Uncle_ Ianto..."

Ianto laughed. "Thought things looked too clean. Couldn't sleep?"

Jack sighed. "I don't sleep."

"Not needing to doesn't mean you shouldn't," Ianto said. "Look, I'm sorry things didn't go according to plan last night. How can I make it up to you?"

Jack shook his head. "You don't need to. You've never promised me anything."

"Look, Jack, about that, I…"

"POLICE REPORT COMING IN!" Gwen yelled.

"Fuck it!" he swore. "Her timing stinks!"

"Let's go," Jack urged, and Ianto followed him out of the room.

"So what is it this time?" Ianto asked as he and Jack met the others by Tosh's workstation.

"There's a disturbance in a night club across town, The Lamia Bar, reports are coming in from the staff saying one of their people has gone berserk. He's tearing up the place with 'superhuman strength'. The police are on their way."

"Ok, let's go check it out. Standar weapons, folks. Tasers first. Let’s keep an open mind."

The Lamia Bar was a Goth place about a half mile away, up a dingy-looking alley way. The neon sign placed above what passed for a door was unlit, the door locked. In the morning light the place looked run down and tatty. The team could hear the noises from the bar all the way outside, breaking glass and splintering wood, screams and running feet. The sirens of the police cars arriving drowned out the din and suddenly the door rattled, then flew open as two terrified members of staff tumbled out and tried to run. Ianto and Owen grabbed one as the other, a girl, fled into the arms of the waiting policemen.

"D.d.don't g.g.go in there," the young man stuttered, straining to get away. "He's gone completely nuts…"

"Who has?" Jack asked. “Name?”

"Matt Blakely, one of the bouncers. He's ripping the place to shreds…oh god, Gary!"

"Who's Gary?"

"The Manager…he was, until Matt tore his head half off…" He screamed as a feral growl sounded down the corridor, struggled in their arms. Jack shook him roughly.

"Why did he do this, do you know?" he demanded, trying to get some sense from the man. He just looked at him, wild eyed and panicking. "He just…flipped… He was playing with this…thing, his girl had given him it, like a shiny disc thing, with lights on, and he just…flipped! Screamed and went mad, ripped a mirror off the wall then grabbed Gary when he tried to talk to 'im..."

"So what do you think? Alien tech or is he just nuts?" Owen speculated.

"Probably just nuts, but we'd better be safe than sorry." Jack said, with a shrug.

"OK, then let's go," Ianto said, and lead the way inside.

The corridor was dark and painted blood red which didn't help. The room at the end opened out into the bar and dance area decorated with chandeliers and hanging red velvet drapery. "At any other time," Ianto murmured, "this might be my favourite colour scheme." Splintered wood and broken glass, spilled drinks and broken bottles littered the floor. The bar was a broken wreck, smashed as if with a sledge hammer. Two bodies, a man and a woman, lay lifeless in the middle of the wreckage, blood pooled beneath the man. 

"That'll be Gary then," Owen muttered, reaching to check for the non-existent pulse.

Ianto motioned Jack and Owen to move around the edge of the room to the left, while he, Gwen and Tosh moved around it to the right. 

“I think, under the circumstances, guns might be in order rather than tasers,” Ianto suggested, swapping out his own taser for his glock. 

Everyone else was more than happy with his reasoning, and they walked forward, cautiously. Scuffling and a sudden scream from overhead made them realise there was an upstairs bar, on a mezzanine, reached by a staircase to either side of the main room. Debris, presumably from the bar upstairs, suddenly came flying over the balcony rail and everyone ducked instinctively. They took their chance and ran, Jack and Owen up one set of stairs, Ianto and the girls up the other. A tall, heavily muscled man stood in the centre of the floor, a lump hammer in one hand, the limp form of a blond-haired girl, in the other. As they watched, he dropped her and advanced on a group of terrified employees who had managed to huddle themselves into a far corner. Not far enough as it turned out.

Without pausing, Jack and Ianto both fired, the bullets striking the man's back. He reeled, but kept on going. Jack sprang over the dead girl, drawing his tazer. The man jerked and spasmed as the electric charge went through him and he dropped, groaning, onto the floor. Quickly, Jack frisked him, finding the metal disc in a pocket of his trousers. "Got it, whatever it is" he declared. As soon as he removed it, the man on the floor sighed and released his last breath.

The disc was pulsing, blue lights flashing round its rim. Jack felt a wave of aggression suddenly ripple through him, removing conscious thought. He screamed, a primal animal urge to tear his enemies apart. His vision clouded, his only desire was to rend and tear and kill…He didn't see the shocked looks of the others as he turned on them, raising the gun. There was a loud bang and the disc dropped from Jack's nerveless fingers. A look of surprise filled his eyes as he saw the blood flowering on his shirt front. Then he dropped forward, dead before he hit the floor.

Ianto stood there, grim faced, gun still held on the prostrate form. "Do not touch that thing!" he ordered. "Tosh, can it be deactivated?"

"I…I don't know…" She went forward to see. Moments later, she had used a pair of tweezers from her bag to press what looked like a centrally placed button and the lights went off. Gingerly, she picked it up with the tweezers and dropped it into a plastic bag.

"Owen, Gwen, let's clean up, get these people out of here." Ianto holstered his gun. "It’s over, you're safe now," he said as they began the process of removing the frightened and traumatised employees downstairs to begin the long task of retconning them all.

Tosh looked down at Jack and Ianto rolled him onto his back. "We'd better get him home," he said.

A harsh gasp heralded his return to life. There was a sigh of relief and Jack looked up into Ianto's face again and frowned. "You shot me!" he said indignantly. "What the hell happened?"

"The disc, you touched the disc," Ianto said. "We think it triggers a psychotic rage of some kind," he suggested. "I simply got to you before you got to us." He helped Jack to his feet from the autopsy trolley.

"I'm beginning to think this is becoming a habit," Jack said ruefully.

Ianto smiled. "S'ok, you'll probably have to shoot me next time."

Jack paused as Ianto looked at him with a considering expression. "What?" he asked.

Ianto's expression turned hard. "If there comes a time," he said firmly, "when something happens to me and I try to kill people, then I trust you'll do what's necessary."

"What? Kill you, you mean?"

"Yes. Exactly that." He looked away. "I need to know that our…" he paused. "Look, if we have a relationship, it could compromise our actions if the necessity ever arises. I need to know where I stand."

Jack lowered his eyes. "Horrible as it is to contemplate," he said gently, "you have my word that, if the need arises, I won't hesitate." He sighed. "I would do the same for Gwen or Owen or Tosh'," he added, and laid a hand on Ianto's shoulder, intending to reassure. "I _can_ see what you're saying,” he said, voice gentle. 

"You can?" Ianto was confused, unaware that he was suggesting anything at all.

"I guess it’s better that we don't pursue a proper relationship. Too dangerous," he murmured. "We get what we both need from each other, so let's leave it at that. Casual, no strings?"

Ianto paused, and Jack did not see his expression as he replied. "Okay. Good to know where we stand," and he walked off, his quick exit masking the sudden, unwelcome tears. 

Ianto had known as much, in his heart of hearts, that anything he and Jack had would probably be superficial, but he couldn't help but hope. Hope was very easily dashed and, he had to admit, hurt like hell. He would heal, but it might take time.

If Ianto was subdued the rest of that week, Jack put it down to the stress of the job. Tosh couldn't find out where the disc had come from, other than the dead man's girlfriend had found it on a flea market stall in Barry. It was made of some unidentifiable alloy of no known origin. Gwen interviewed the woman and she had been able to tell them only that the man who sold it had said it was a game of some kind, one of those reaction games which flashed a series of lights then you had to copy the pattern as fast as you could to 'disarm' it and win. Ianto forbade further tests, citing that it was just too dangerous and had obviously taken over the person touching it far too easily. Tosh argued they might touch it with a probe and not be affected, after all she had switched it off in that way, but Ianto was having none of it. The only thing she managed to do was to scan it and record the energy signature for the future.

So they consigned the Night Club episode to the archives with a "Do Not Use" seal on the box containing the bronze cube, and life returned to whatever passed as normal for Torchwood. They continued to hunt weevils, chase objects that got flung through the rift, and even rescued a small boy from being savaged by a small and aggressive dog-like creature that dropped through the rift into a play park. Apart from the fact that the thing had six legs, it might have passed for an ordinary dog. Ianto made no advances to Jack and Jack made no moves on Ianto. Tosh knew there was something holding them both back but she wasn't sure what. Neither Gwen nor Owen appeared concerned.

"Jack, we're going for a drink after work. You fancy coming with us?" Tosh asked.

"No, got some work to finish up here, you go, enjoy yourselves."

"Ianto, you coming?"

He paused, then smiled. "Yes, okay. Just one, mind. Got an early start tomorrow."

"You've got an early start every day!" Owen complained. "Don't you ever lie in?"

Ianto smiled. "It’s over-rated, wallowing in bed, nowhere to go, nothing to do…"

Gwen laughed and Tosh giggled. "It’s good to tell you don't live with anyone. The day I get like that about a lie in is when Rhys will divorce me."

"Gwen, you're not even married yet?" Tosh elbowed her in the ribs.

"So? I'll be married and old and grey before I feel like that about a lie in!"

They left through the gate, Owen running to catch them, sketching a wave to him as it rolled shut in front of him.

"That's that then," Jack muttered and went to make himself a coffee. He knew Ianto was right, that they should probably not make their relationship anything more than the occasional shag when they felt like it. It was too dangerous. He wasn't even sure that they should be, what had Ianto called it, _fraternising_? It was probably against Torchwood Policy or something. He went down to the archives and picked up a stack of reports, proceeding to file them alphabetically. By the time hunger pangs made him stop and go order pizza, it was nearly 10pm.

The alarm to say there was a report in made a din just as he was answering the door to the pizza delivery boy. He thrust a £20 note at him and said "keep the change" and shut the door, running back down into the Hub and dumping the pizza on the table by the couch. Police reports were coming in of a disturbance in the centre of the town. He quickly paged everybody with the location and a brief description, "Superhuman strength again" and left the Hub at a run.

The SUV halted as close to the pub as Jack could get, which in the grand scheme of things wasn't as close as he would have liked. He had picked Ianto and Tosh up on the way, Gwen's car arriving bearing her and Owen moments later. The pub was surrounded with scattered groups of patrons held back behind black and yellow tapes, several police cars and police officers, one of which proved to be Andy Davidson.

"You out for a social or does this, by any stretch of the imagination, concern Torchwood then?" he asked them.

Jack glanced at him and grinned. "It does if somebody is breaking up a bar with, and I quote, "superhuman strength"?"

"Some guy had too much I reckon. Probably high on crystal meth or somethin. Didn't you know Cardiff is the drugs capital of Wales?" He straightened his protective vest and glanced at Gwen "What did I tell you? CSI Cardiff…"

"Measuring the velocity of a kebab, yes, I know," Gwen replied, looking at the pub, broken glass from the windows littering the kerb, screaming and swearing coming from inside. "Apart from our man, is anybody still in there?"

"Not as far as we know."

"What's his name?"

"Yian Davis. One of his drinking buddies told us." Andy frowned. "Swore blind he wasn't on anything, but you know what they're like, this lot. They wouldn't tell us if he was on iron tablets."

"Let's go," Ianto said, drawing his gun. "Gwen, Owen, round the back, Jack, with me." he looked at Tosh. "Try scanning for anything from here if you can, let us know if it looks like last time."

"Sure." She turned to the on-board computer and began punching keys as Gwen and Owen, closely followed by Andy, disappeared around the other side of the building. Ianto approached the front door which was conveniently hanging off its hinges.

"Don't have to open it anyway," he commented wryly and ducked as a beer glass flew through the air in front of him. "Missed," he murmured and Jack smothered a laugh. 

"Well, we know where he is," Jack said and moved quietly through the inner door and peered round the corner. Focussed on wrecking the bar area was a man of average height, nondescript features in an ordinary face, now contorted with rage, but otherwise a forgettable kind of person. His clothes were bland and ordinary too, beige trousers and cream shirt with a short brown anorak to complete the geek-like ensemble.

"Doesn't look like Mr Universe, does he?" Ianto whispered as they watched the man heft a cast iron table and throw it through the window with apparent ease. He vented his anger on someone's discarded coat, ripping it in two and throwing the pieces aside. He hurled a few more glasses through the window and shrieks came from people outside who suddenly realised they were probably far too close.

Tosh's disembodied voice came through their earpieces. "I'm detecting a signature like the last one we found.” There was a short pause. "He has it on him, I think, if he's to the right of the main door at the front..."

"That's him then," Ianto suggested. "What the hell are these things, and, more to the point, where are they coming from?"

Jack nodded. "We need him alive so we can ask him, so how do you want this to go down?"

"We know we can't reason with him, but we need him alive, if at all possible. I'm not up for killing him anyway but the last one wasn't exactly easy. Stun gun?"

“Okay,” Jack murmured.

"On three then," and Ianto counted down with his fingers. On three, he stepped smartly out of hiding and waved, saying in a loud voice, "Mr Davis, I'm Ianto Jones, Torchwood, we need your help." The man swung round crazily, weaving on his feet, shouted an obscenity and charged. Jack threw himself into a dive and caught him round the waist, slamming him to the ground, rolling to his feet. He felt a momentary anger rip through him and then it was gone. Seconds later, Ianto's taser ripped 50000 volts through Davis' body and the man convulsed. Angered, he swung towards Jack and lashed out. Jack ducked, surprised but not subdued, pirouetted and came up behind him, slamming another charge into the crazed man. He dropped, like a stone, leaving both Jack and Ianto breathing hard from their efforts to keep a distance. Taking his opportunity, Ianto dashed across and reached to immobilise Davis' wrists with a zip tie.

Several disastrous things suddenly came together at once. Whatever the discs were, it seemed that the aggression wasn't limited just to the person who possessed them. Jack had felt the wave of anger go through him as his body slammed into Davis, vanishing as his natural momentum had broken the contact as he rolled away. The echo of it was brutal. As he stepped away from delivering the charge that toppled Davis, Jack saw Ianto dash over and lean down to take advantage of the man's incapacity to immobilise him with the ties. Jack began his move to stop him, but Gwen and Owen arrived, Andy behind them, bursting into the room, their distraction enough to divert his action. Ianto grabbed Davis' wrists and it was all suddenly too late. The contact he made was enough. His face contorted, he threw back his head and screamed, the raw aggression bursting out of him. Time seemed to slow down. Jack brought the taser up, but nothing happened when he pulled the trigger. He had needed too much of its energy to drop Davis. Dropping the taser, Jack dragged his gun from its holster. Seconds lengthened impossibly as Ianto brought his own gun up, training it in Owen's direction, his expression ugly. Jack saw Owen shove Gwen out of the way as Ianto fired. The shot sounded terribly loud in the enclosed space. Without hesitation, Jack aimed his own gun, and pulled the trigger. 


	6. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone deals with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No apologies for the Deadline speech, it was the first time I used it. It fitted in perfectly.

Shock rooted them all to the spot. Andy just stood immobile, eyes wide. Gwen and Owen, neither of them hurt, helped each other up. Coming out of his trance and speedily assessing the situation, Andy radioed that things were under control, nobody panic and would they please send for an ambulance. Somebody had been shot. He was careful to leave out the details. This was Torchwood after all, the details were no one's business but their own. Davis groaned and Jack warned, "Nobody touch him! Nobody touch either of them! Tosh, get in here!" Moments later Tosh appeared at the door, scanner in hand, her face registering total disbelief and shock at the scene in front of her eyes. "Tosh, for God's sake, tell me you can pinpoint where this thing is on him!" she blinked and nodded, averting her eyes from Ianto who lay face down partially across Davis body, blood soaking into the floor beneath him. Bringing the scanner up she passed it across Davis body.

"It’s in his pocket, his trousers," she said. "Right hand side."

"Fuck!" Owen swore. "How the hell do we get it off him!"

Jack drew his knife out from its boot sheath and gingerly sliced at the material, ripping the pocket open. The disc dropped out surprisingly easily and rolled across the floor. Tosh pounced, this time armed with a long thin dental probe. She disarmed the thing and bagged it and suddenly the air of aggression vanished as if it had never been there. Gwen made herself busy restraining Davis with Andy's help while Owen and Jack were at Ianto's side and turning him over carefully.

"Christ, Jack!" Owen swore. "What the hell happened?"

"That thing affected him," Jack said bluntly as Owen tugged Ianto's clothes away so he could see the damage. "They seem to be able to transfer aggression just by touching the person who has one. I couldn't stop him Owen, I…" 

Owen looked up, hands covered in Ianto's blood. "Jack, stop it, you did what you had to! He would have killed us. Now put your hand there and keep up the pressure."

Ianto's eyes slid open, focussed on the men attending him.

"Ianto?" Jack willed him to be okay, not to die in his arms. "God, I'm sorry!"

"Good job you've got lousy aim," he murmured. "S'okay, Jack, you did good."

Owen had inspected the damage. "Actually, he’s got better aim than you think,” Owen said. “Couple of inches to the right and we’d not be having this conversation, Boss. We need to get you to hospital, now. I can't deal with this here."

"Ambulance is already on its way," Andy reassured as the noise of a siren reached their ears.

Jack watched anxiously as the paramedics loaded the stretcher into the ambulance. Ianto was drifting in and out of consciousness and his blood pressure was dangerously low. Jack knew things were touch and go without being told.

"Gwen, can you…?"

"Give me the keys to the SUV, Sweetheart. Tosh and I can manage here,” she said. She knew she sounded more confident than she felt, but she was damned if would let it show. Jack had enough to worry about. "I'm sure Andy can help, can't you, love?" Andy nodded, happy for the moment to be drafted in to Torchwood, albeit on a temporary basis.

"Thanks…"

"Go on, move!" she said, giving him a push. "You did what you had to do, Jack," she added. He nodded, then bounded into the back of the ambulance after Owen. Gwen watched it out of sight, blue lights flashing and sirens blaring.

Tosh came up beside her. "Will he be alright, do you think?”

"Wish I knew," she said, then grabbed Andy by the arm and dragged him inside to get Davis out of the pub and into the SUV.

Neither Gwen nor Tosh felt like going home. With Davis in a cell and the object, exactly the same as the previous one, securely locked away, there was nothing more to accomplish, but they needed each other's company. Andy was with them, although his attention was all on his surroundings. He made indifferent coffee and they sat in the boardroom, talking and trying to pass the hours by not voicing their fears. When Gwen’s mobile rang they all jumped.

"Answer it?" Tosh hissed.

"No, you." Gwen looked scared.

"Gwen!"

"Oh, for God's sake," Andy said and grabbed the phone. "Hello?" There was a pause and then, "Gwen asked me for help, or have you forgotten?" He shook his head. "Yes, she's here," he said and held out the phone towards her. "It’s Jack," he said and she hesitated before taking it from his outstretched hand.

"Hello?" she said, apprehensively. Anxious seconds passed before she said, "Oh, thank God!" and then, minutes later. "Okay, keep in touch." She put the phone down.

"Well?" Tosh almost shrieked.

"He's out of theatre and they managed to repair the damage. Apparently Owen insisted on joining the surgical team. Torchwood strikes again," she said. "He says Ianto is now in the ICU and still unconscious. Owen's knackered so Jack's sent him home and Jack won't leave Ianto.” She sighed. "So, nothing we can do until tomorrow."

"I've news for you," Andy said, glancing at his watch. "It already is tomorrow so we better get you home. Come on, I'll drive you."

Jack didn't know how long he sat there, listening to the beeping machines monitoring Ianto's heart rate, brain activity and blood pressure. He sat silently as the nurses changed shift. They came and went, doing their checks silently and thoroughly. Someone made him a cup of tea. They were kind and practical and discreet. Jack just sat there, watching.

"Are you related?" somebody asked. 

Jack looked into the concerned brown eyes of a blue uniformed Sister and shook his head, sadly. “Not really…”

"friend?" she asked.

"Colleague," he said, his voice tightly controlled.

"You know," she said gently, "if you want to talk to him, he might hear you. Hearing is the last thing to go and people who are unconscious can still hear you sometimes. Don't feel embarrassed," she said with an encouraging smile. Jack said nothing, just looked at Ianto lying there, chest rising and falling gently.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted.

She smiled. "I hope you don't mind me asking but…" she paused. "He's more than just a colleague, isn't he?"

Jack sighed, trying to hold back tears. He nodded, tight-lipped.

"Thought so," she said sagely. "Then why don't you move closer and hold his hand?" she suggested. She helped him move his chair closer and then he tentatively took hold of the surprisingly warm fingers. It nearly undid him. He looked round but she had vanished, retreating discreetly back to the nurses' station down the corridor.

"I…I'm so sorry," he said softly, his voice sounding bereft and strange to his own ears. "Oh, Ianto, this isn't right…I should have told you…" His vision blurred, he couldn't stop the tears. "I don't know if you can really hear me, I don't know if this is just something they tell us to do to make us feel better. Something to give us purpose, so we're not just waiting, waiting for the miracle to happen, for the science to work..." he glanced at the beeping trace of the heart line on the nearby screen. "This must have been the longest I've ever looked at you and not seen you smile, you know that? Don't think you don't matter to me, don't think you're a blip in time as far as I'm concerned. You're not, you never will be!" Jack screwed his eyes shut. "It’s not enough Ianto, however long we have it'll never be enough." He got up, leaned forwards and kissed Ianto's forehead gently. "I love you," he said, honestly. "I'm sorry if I'm complicating your world, I'm sorry if this gets in the way, but I do love you, can't help it." He sat back down. "I did as I promised, I didn't let our relationship get in the way of doing what was necessary but…" he lost control, hard wracking sobs that shook him to the core. Suddenly he was enveloped in a pair of strong arms and held, firmly, until the tumult passed.

"It’s alright, you're not alone," the Sister said soothingly, comfortingly rubbing his back. "Now come on, let's leave him in peace and get you tidied up." She pulled him to his feet and lead him out. It was no mean feat, manhandling six feet of solidly built male when you only happen to reach five foot four inches, but experience won out and she guided him into her office and sat him down with a mug of sweet tea in his hands. It reminded him of the blitz; tea and sympathy, the pragmatism of the nurses who daily saw things nobody should have to see, yet they carried on, giving stoic support day in, day out.

"Now Mr…?"

"Harkness, Jack," he said, trying to smile.

"Jack," she said, pushing a box of tissues across the desk towards him. "I'm Jo, Sister Bentley. I just want you to know, while we can't promise anything, there's every indication he's going to be alright. His vital signs are good. He'll wake up when he's ready." She looked at him, assessing. "You must get some sleep you know, you'll be no good to him if you drop from exhaustion."

"I don't need much…a couple of hours maybe."

"Lucky you," she said with a smile. "Yet you need those two hours Jack, and you need them soon. Look at you, you look as if you've not slept for a week."

"I can't leave him…"

"Jack…"

"NO!" he surprised himself with the vehemence of his words. "Sorry," he added, contrite. "I'm just…worried..."

"Of course you are,” she said sympathetically. “Does he know?" she asked. "About how you feel?"

"Some, not all."

"I see. Well, wait until he wakes, maybe? Then you can go get your rest." she smiled, her eyes kind. “Might be a while though.” 

He got back to Ianto's room, sat down, reached out again and curled his fingers round Ianto's. The machines beeped, the nurses came again and checked everything, went away seemingly satisfied.

Jack sighed. "I'm so sorry, Ianto," he said again, his thumb tracing a pattern on the back of Ianto's hand. "I should be where you are, not you. I can come back, you can't!" Jack squeezed the fingers, willing some response, but non came. He laid his forehead on the bed, defeated. "Come on Yan, please, don't leave me alone," he murmured.

"Not bloody likely..." came the murmured response. "I need to complete your training…your aim…is fucking terrible…"

Jack choked back a sob of relief and looked into the blue eyes. A faint smile tugged at the corners of Ianto's mouth.

"How are you?"

"I've been better," he murmured, as his eyes closed again.

"I'll tell the nurse…"

"Bugger the nurse," he said. "Jack, no, don't interrupt…" He gathered breath, still sleepy from the anaesthetic, his concentration drifting. "Love you…"

“Love you too,” Jack was quick to reply.

"I know. About that relationship?" His voice was slow, husky.

"What relationship?"

"Ours, you daft sod…"

"We don't have one," Jack's voice was flat.

"We need one."

"We do?"

"Life's too short," Ianto whispered, drowsily. "Far too short…" Jack thought he had fallen asleep again but he opened his eyes and looked into Jack's. "I'm glad I'm not just a blip in time for you," he smiled.

Too startled to respond, Jack watched as sleep overtook Ianto again.

"Awake?" the Sister asked, coming in to the room to stand behind him.

"He was."

"Mr Jones?" she said, stepping to Ianto's side. The patient’s eyes opened reluctantly. "How are you feeling?" she asked, as nurses do.

"Fine…" he murmured and drifted off again.

She looked at Jack with a smile. "Time for you to go," she said firmly. "He'll be like this for a while. He'll sleep the anaesthetic off for most of the day, so there's not much you can do for now." She patted his arm. "Go home, get some sleep, and come back later," she said. "We'll phone you if there's any change, don't worry."

Jack bent over and kissed Ianto on the lips gently. He mumbled something incoherent and smiled. Then Jack left quietly, satisfied that Ianto was in good hands.


	7. Conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and fluff... A happy ending.

Jack spent the rest of the week that Ianto was in hospital wracked with guilt. The fact that Ianto was alive was not due to Jack's shooting and he knew it. He had shot almost blindly, necessity winning over deliberate action. The bullet had gone in low, beneath Ianto's ribs, through soft tissue, missing the most vital organs by sheer luck. He knew he had not aimed, despite what Owen had said. Had he hesitated and taken vital seconds to aim he knew he would have put Owen, Gwen and Andy in more danger. That didn't make him feel any better. He went about like a wraith, barely saying anything, going down to the shooting range, losing himself in practice (which he didn't need).

They had two missions during the week, nothing more complicated than weevil hunts, but both times Jack had hunted them mercilessly. He started behaving recklessly. The simple truth was that he wanted oblivion. He wanted the exertion, the pain and the adrenaline of hunting, anything to blot out the feelings of guilt and remorse he was saturated with. He ended up blind drunk, something he rarely did. The others found him the following morning, sprawled across the sofa, unconscious. Owen took him down to the medical bay and gave him a good talking to but it didn't help. He sat there sullenly until Owen stopped his tirade and tried a different tack. "Look" he snapped, "when he comes home he's going to need someone to look after him 24/7 for the first few days, you know that?" Jack looked at him and he added, "You'd be the best choice for that. He doesn't have anyone else. You're strong enough to carry him, lift him if the need arises. The girls aren't. Besides, you've seen him naked, it won't phase you." The comical look on Owen's face finally won through and Jack grinned. Then his face fell.

"You think he'll want me to? I'm the reason he's in this mess…"

"Bollocks! Yes, I do. He misses you Jack, you've not been to see him in three days. He's beginning to wonder what he's done wrong. He told me last night he was shit scared you'd had second thoughts, that you’d run away."

"No! I…can't…I just can't face him…"

"Why not? Do you love the man or don't you?" the question caught him off guard. Owen's usual cynicism was absent.

"Yes, I do. But I could have killed him Owen. I did not aim. That was not good shooting. I did not shoot to miss though, you know. "

"And I'm glad about that, actually. I'm still here and Gwen's here and Andy is too because you didn't miss. You did what you had to do and we're all bloody glad you did. He doesn't blame you either! Okay, so its luck that he's still here." Owen shrugged. "That's why you shouldn't let this chance slip past you. You both need this Jack. For God's sake don't lose what you have because you're too bloody terrified of what _might_ happen. That’s not you and that's no way to live!" Owen stopped his diatribe, then added, "I think you'd better get some rest. You'll still be over the limit to drive…"

"The police can't get me on that one!" Jack grumbled.

"Maybe not, but how many other poor sods might you take with you if you wrap the SUV round a tree? Stop being so bloody selfish and start thinking about somebody else for a change, instead of Jack fucking Harkness!" Jack frowned. He hadn't seen Owen so angry for a long time. "Not to mention that getting a new car would be bloody inconvenient. Now take off and go sleep, then get your arse down to the hospital tomorrow. He's due home in the morning." Owen seemed to deflate, as if the anger had been drained by the tirade. He patted Jack awkwardly on the shoulder. "Don't be a prat, Jack. It’s obvious to a blind man you two are in love. Life's too short. Make the most of it." If Jack was startled at the lack of acerbic comments, he said nothing.

"Jack, I've got a possible source for these discs," Tosh was sitting at her terminal, scanning the data scrolling down the screens. "There was a rash of them in London about ten years ago. Torchwood One had a stash of them, found on street corners being sold as games. Apparently they're harmless unless you press a particular sequence of the lights then all hell breaks loose."

"So what's the possible source of the latest ones?" Jack groaned softly and rubbed his temples, trying to ease the banging headache. He had managed about three hours sleep but he was still feeling a little worse for wear and finding it difficult to concentrate.

"Well, Yian Davis could only tell us he got his on an internet auction but he kept the details on his account, which he gave us. These are the seller's details." She brought up an account and showed him the name.

"Timagent1364?" Gwen frowned.

Jack stared at the screen and whistled. "Add an 'e' in the middle and waddaya get?" he asked, his voice wearied. "Time agent 1364. Fucking great!"

"So?"

"Gwen, Time Agent 1364 was someone I knew. He's using his old code, the idiot. Since the agency was disbanded, he must have gone rogue, unless he's working for someone else."

"Please, not _him_ again," Tosh groaned.

"No, thankfully, although you might prefer him before this is over. No, 1364 was a man called Jacob Hartford, and no, that wasn't his real name either. He always was a selfish idiot, looks like he hasn't changed much."

"Why do you guys always have names beginning with J H?" Gwen asked. "You telling me everyone with J H names might be a time agent?" she frowned. "That could put a whole new aspect on Josh Hartnett…"

"It’s secret." Jack smiled. "Need to know basis only. Timelines, Gwen, don't ask me."

"Okay, okay, I can keep a secret."

"Good. Now, the question is, why is he here?"

"Not ‘is he here?’ then?"

"No, he's here, I know he is. He's distributing, causing trouble. These things cause uncontrollable rage, Gwen, and they're infectious. Someone who is in possession of one can affect others. These are riot starting devices, aggression transmitters. You want to cause trouble? Use one of these. Terrorists would give their eye teeth for these. How much money can be made by selling these little beauties to the right person, eh? Imagine one of these in a football crowd or at an airport. Someone carrying one is like a human timebomb." Jack looked at Tosh. "Trace the details, find an address, then wake me up, I'm going to crash for another couple of hours. Doctor's orders." He went off to his room.

The flat looked innocuous, a council flat in a block of anonymous identical dwellings. Rain was threatening as they stood outside the door and Tosh knocked. They had set the sting up quite quickly, buying one of the discs from the auction site that same evening and arranging to pick it up at the man's flat the following morning. After what seemed like an age, a voice demanded to know who she was. "I'm just calling to collect the game I bought from you, my name is Sato, Tania Sato? I have the receipt…"

There was a series of clicks and the door swung open. A tall brown-haired man stood there, slightly dishevelled and wearing a grin. "Well, hello, nice to meet you. Yes, I have the game here, Ms Sato. Please come in." He turned to lead the way inside, which was when Jack and Gwen burst past Tosh, coming to rest holding the man at gunpoint against the wall.

"What the hell! Who the hell are you?!" he spluttered, struggling against Jack's hold.

"Strip!" Jack ordered, not wasting words on introductions.

"Well, if that's what you're interested in…?" he began but Jack was having none of it. He backhanded the man across his face, rocking his head back, ignoring Gwen's murmured complaint. "Ow, Jack, take it easy…"

"Now strip! Or do I make you?" Jack growled.

"Who the hell are you?" the man squeaked. "You have no right…"

Jack brought his gun up and pressed it hard between the frightened man's eyes. "One more word and I'll dispense with the need to take you in alive. Now shut up and strip." Jack's eyes were flinty. "I want to make sure you've no more of those discs on you." He stepped smartly back and levelled the gun. "I _won't_ ask you again!"

The man began to take off his clothes and kept up a constant moaning about rights and police harassment until Gwen, seeing the look on Jack's face building up to another explosion, told him none too gently to be quiet, they were not police, and they were about as far from adhering to prisoner rights as Jacob was from his own time. That shut him up.

"Who are you?" was all he ventured to ask, his voice almost a whisper, standing with hands on head and feet spayed, facing the fireplace.

"Torchwood," Jack said, economically. "Gwen, bag him and tag him." Jack looked at his watch. "Damn it, I'm going to be late."

"What for?"

"I'm on taxi duty to fetch the boss home."

"Ring the hospital. We'll sort this," Gwen said. "Tosh, get the restraints on and then we can ask our friend some questions." She looked at Jack. "Go, we can deal with this," she reassured him.

Jack sighed and went outside, bringing up the number on his PDA and calling through to the ward. "Hello, yes, I'm supposed to be picking Mr Ianto Jones up this morning. I'm going to be late, could you tell him to wait and I'll be about an hour? You will? Thank you so much. Oh, the name’s Harkness. He knows I'm coming."

He stayed until they had transported Jacob back to the Hub and thrown him in a cell, then Jack roared off in the SUV to St Helen's Infirmary.

Ianto was sitting in the day room, his bag by his feet. He looked fragile, worn out. "Sorry I'm late,” Jack offered. “We were processing the guy responsible for the discs. Tosh got his details from the auction site where he was selling the things. He had another ten in his flat."

"Wonderful, good work ,Jack." Ianto looked genuinely pleased. "Everybody alright?" He accepted the arm Jack offered and Jack picked up his bag.

"Everybody is fine" Jack reassured him, and off they went, moving slowly.

"Where've you been? You've not been to visit," Ianto said gently. "I was worried."

"Thinking. Sorry."

"Owen told me you've been having some difficulty…"

"Owen has a big mouth."

"Owen's heart is in the right place. I was…concerned you were having second thoughts about us."

Jack spun to face him and gripped him by the shoulders "Never. But I'm the reason you're here, I put you in here! Damn it, Ianto, I nearly put you in a body bag! I…" 

Gentle fingers pressed against his lips to quiet him. "Shh" Ianto said softly "Enough. You did what was right. You could have killed me, but you didn't, so either by luck or design, I'm still here. So are Gwen, Owen and Andy because you acted properly. If I ever had any doubts about you, Jack, I don't any more. So I am ordering you to stop hauling yourself over the coals about this."

"Next time, I might not miss anything vital," his voice was barely above a whisper.

"And I am telling you now," Ianto said firmly, "I am going to make it my highest priority, the top of my list, to ensure that 'next time' never happens! I have no wish to spend a week in such a mess again."

"I'm so sorry."

"Will you stop apologising!"

"But I hurt you, Ianto. It’s not something I ever want to do again."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Contrary to the rumours, I'm not into BDSM. Well, not much anyway." Jack turned to stare at him and he laughed, then clutched his side with a grimace. "Ah, that might have been a mistake." An arm curled round him, supporting him as the pain eased off.

"You should have been in a wheelchair, at least to the door." Jack's voice was edged with concern.

Ianto shook his head. "More fun this way." He leaned against Jack's body, feeling the warmth and strength of the man beside him.

"You good to go?"

Ianto righted himself and gripped Jack's arm, nodding. "Ready," he said, and they went into the lift and down to the car park.

The flat was cold and empty. Ianto sat on the sofa while Jack went round putting the heating on and filling the coffee machine.

"Jack, would you...stay here?" the question was tentative.

"Try stopping me," Jack said gently, laying a comforting hand on Ianto’s shoulder. "You need looking after. Owen said you'd need 24/7 care for a few days. I aim to provide that for you.”

"Jack, about what I said…you know, when I was…after I woke up..."

"Don't worry, I won't hold you to it, you know. You were kinda under the influence," he said with a grin, but Ianto wasn't smiling. "What?"

"I meant every word," Ianto said. "I _want_ that relationship Jack, with you, now. I want it all…I'm just not sure you do."

"I thought that was what _you_ wanted, you know, no complicated relationships, nothing to get in the way?"

"I was scared that anything we had _would_ get in the way." Ianto rubbed his side, where the bullet had gone through. "It didn't, though, did it? I'm still here, even if more by good luck than good management. That's why we need this. You and me, together. Before it really is too late," he said gently. "After all…your aim is bloody awful. You might do the job right next time."

"I thought there wasn't going to be a next time?" Jack said.

Suddenly Ianto found himself engulfed in a hug, his mouth smothered with Jack's own, all speech and thought cut off. His legs went weak, which had nothing whatever to do with his injury. His heart thundered in his ears. Life couldn't get much sweeter than this, he thought, as Jack hoisted him easily into his arms and carried him the rest of the way to the bedroom. Jack proceeded to undress him, his warm hands stroking random bits of skin as they were revealed, more comforting than arousing. Arousal wasn't his aim, he knew Ianto was not yet physically capable of anything so strenuous. So he put him carefully between the covers, drawing the duvet up around his chest and pulling the curtains shut. The side light went on.

"Coffee," Jack said and went to the kitchen.

Ianto lay still, absorbing the feeling of being cared for. He listened to Jack pottering around and relaxed. He had not felt this way in too long a time.

As he busied himself in the small kitchen, Jack was aware that he had never been invited to Ianto's home before. Inside the small one-bedroom apartment, everything was typically Ianto. Neat, tidy, cared for. A soft burgundy leather sofa sat in front of a large flat-screen TV and entertainment centre, a clinically clean black laminate and steel kitchen area across the other side of the room separated by a breakfast bar. There were few actual 'things' on display, no ornaments, no little touches of humanity. A big state-of-the-art computer dominated a desk in front of the window, flanked by bookshelves packed with books and DVDs.

He made the coffee and took it back to the bedroom. Ianto was huddling into the duvet, looking cold.

"Do you have a hot water bottle?" Jack asked. "You look as if you're heading for hypothermia."

"In the wardrobe."

Jack rummaged, found one, then went to fill it from the kettle. He tucked it under the covers at Ianto's feet and settled on the bed beside him, pulling him close to lie against him. Jack radiated warmth and Ianto was happy to let it soak into his skin.

"Feels better, thank you."

"So," Jack hunted for conversation, "what made you accept this job then?" he wanted to know. "Why come way out here? Not that I'm not happy you accepted or anything…"

"I'm Welsh," Ianto said simply. "This was, still is, my home," he said then added, "Lisa." He caught Jack's puzzled look and smiled. "She was always pushing me to put myself forward for jobs, for a post in research or IT. After she died, after they gave me a commendation, the leadership here came up. They asked me if I would like it and I remembered what Lisa had said, that there might come a day when there were no tomorrows and I should reach out and grab my opportunities with both hands, so…" he glanced at Jack, "…here I am."

"She must have been special," Jack said.

"Mmm," Ianto murmured. “She was. Very special.”

"You know, if you ever want to talk about her, I'll be happy to listen," Jack offered. "Sometimes I want to talk about the people I knew, about Torchwood,…" he paused, sipped his drink and sighed appreciatively. "Trouble is, I want to tell people about them, remember them, but they won't be remembered, by anyone other than us. No one will remember their sacrifices, bar for us. No one will remember their hard work, their discoveries, bar us. Sometimes I wonder what will happen to me, how many Torchwood people am I going to outlive and bury? And I get scared. I have no idea how many people I am going to love and lose before this ends…and I remember all of them, it's like I can't forget."

"Does it matter?"

Jack frowned and cocked his head on one side. "I'm not sure I gather…"

"Well, when somebody you know and love dies, it’s always hard. But that person is an individual, and when they die they cannot be replaced. So no matter how many people you lose it will always be different, every time, because they were unique. Whether you love one or several, each death will deal you its own individual pain. And no two people will remember or feel for someone the same way. I guess what I'm trying to say is, it doesn't matter how many you love really. Because each one is different makes it no better and no worse each time it happens. How much you love someone is the thing that determines the level of pain, but once you've truly loved, how can you deny yourself that feeling? It makes life worthwhile…"

"You believe that?"

"I wouldn't have said it otherwise. As you said once "love in any form always beats the dark". I cannot see why life would be worth living if love wasn't a part of it." He took a sip of coffee and smiled. "There's another angle to it though."

"Which is?"

"The other person in the equation. When someone loves you, you become part of their world, their life, whether you want to or not. You've no control over the fact that they love you, that's their decision, their choice. You're there until the end for them, even if you remove yourself from the equation. They love you and you are in their thoughts, their memories, and if you give them the chance to love you, they have something of you, like you have something of them. Denying them that, you deny a gift you can give people. Holding yourself back because losing people hurts you, that's selfish. It means you miss touching all those people who could benefit from loving you. It means that all those people miss having something special, they miss the one thing that might make their lives worthwhile - _you._ " 

It was clear Jack had never thought in those terms before.

"Owen told me to stop being such a selfish bastard. I guess I get what he meant now."

"I remember you saying you couldn't stay if it meant my throwing your feelings back in your face. I've had a long time to think this through and I want to give you the opportunity to love me, Jack Harkness, that's my gift to you. My choice because, at the end of the day, you enhance my life, I have something special I wouldn't be without. Stay and love me Jack, allow me to give you that in return.” Jack turned, snaked a hand behind Ianto's head and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips met and melted together again, Jack's tongue finding his. They both tasted of coffee. When they parted to draw breath Ianto fixed Jack with a look and said, “One day, always supposing I survive Torchwood, you'll have to watch me grow old and die anyway, won't you?"

"Yes, I guess," Jack said, not wanting to think about it. "What made you say that?"

"Oh, just thinking." Ianto grinned, his breath warm against Jack's ear. His teeth nipped the earlobe and his voice was husky as he said, "You'd better make the most of it then," and he pulled Jack in for another lingering kiss.


	8. Admissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A date, and making a decision.

**A dinner date doesn't go quite according to plan…**

"Dinner?"

"Er…yeah. I thought dinner, then maybe a movie…" Jack shrugged, defensively. "You look like you need cheering up. You've been a bit subdued since you came out of hospital."

Ianto sighed, shuffled some papers on his desk, obviously giving himself time to think about it. He looked tired and Jack had a momentary urge to comfort him with a hug. Something about Ianto's demeanour held him back though. The man was distancing himself, asserting his authority again. That was what prompted Jack's suggestion. He was eager to resume their relationship. Ianto sniffed, tipped the last of his coffee down his throat and handed the mug over to Jack.

"So you're asking me out on a date?" Ianto asked, seemingly just for confirmation he had heard correctly.

"Er…yeah, guess I am."

"Leave it with me" he said, decisively, then reached over to pick up the phone. Dismissed, Jack went to take the mugs back to the kitchen. Tosh glanced at him as he retrieved her mug and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, what did he say?"

"Nothing. He said to leave it with him. I don't know if that's a yes or a no."

"Well, you never know. He's been busy this last week, give it time. He's got a backlog of stuff to clear, UNIT has been giving him hell, we've had three rift spikes in 24 hours. Take it slow Jack," she advised.

"If I took it any slower I'd be in reverse," Jack muttered moodily as he took the mugs to the kitchen to make a fresh batch of coffee.

It was now common knowledge that the Boss and the Tea Boy were an item, although as far as Jack was concerned it had turned into an on-off relationship at best. Tosh and Gwen both thought it was very sweet and Owen rolled his eyes a lot and kept telling them to "get a room" if things got too heated. Not that they had, except maybe once or twice in the office since Ianto had come back to work. Jack had been more relaxed and happy, at least for a while, although things were starting to confuse him now. He had no idea what was going on in Ianto's mind.

Jack had cared for Ianto at home for more than a week, helped him with small things like getting dressed, feeding them both, just keeping him company. But that was over now, Ianto was back in the Boss's office, very much back in control. Jack had tried to make allowances for that, he would never challenge Ianto's authority, but it was harder to do than he first thought. It was as if Ianto was putting distance between them, rather than try to make their relationship work. Jack wondered if he was having second thoughts, running scared.

Coming back with coffee for everyone, Jack handed Owen a mug just as he was about to holler for one. Deflated, he retreated back to the autopsy room and his reports with a subdued "thanks". Jack knocked on Ianto's door and went in, walking round to stand beside him and placed the mug on the table as he always did.

"Waves Restaurant, 8 o'clock," Ianto said and looked Jack up and down. “Can you smarten up a little?" he smiled to take the sting out of the suggestion.

"Pardon me?" Jack stopped in his tracks. "Is this a date?"

"Well, you were the one who wanted to go."

"But I was going to do it," he said. "My call, Damn it. All I wanted was for you to say yes…"

"Ah." Ianto frowned. "Sorry." There was an uncomfortable silence. "Am I out of line?"

Jack glared at the floor and seethed quietly, his face a mask.

"Look, I really _am_ sorry." Ianto said apologetically. "Shall I cancel? Let you choose?" He ran a hand through his hair distractedly.

"That isn't the point!" Jack sighed. "Sometimes you can be one contrary son of a bitch, you know that?"

"Ouch."

"Are we in a relationship or not? You said you wanted one with me, but honestly I'm not sure what we have even qualifies as a relationship at the moment. And you're doing it again!"

"What Jack? What am I doing?" Ianto challenged, irritated.

"That… _thing_ you do…not trusting me to do a job right," he accused.

"I do trust you Jack, you know I do, or you ought to by now."

"Then why don't you show it?"

"Don't get so steamed up about it. I was a bit thoughtless, I admit, but I thought it would be nice if I took care of it. You've had a lot on your plate recently, looking after me, catching up on work, 3 rift spikes in one day, I just…" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "I guess I figured I'd give you one thing less to worry about."

Jack glowered, determined not to let him get off so easily. "But that's what I was trying to do for you, if you'd let me!" he snapped. "What's wrong with what I wear?" he demanded to know.

"Nothing, for work. Dress up a little, you know? Something…"

"Something?" he prompted, one eyebrow raised.

Ianto reached for his coffee and eyed Jack up and down. "Something that shows off that body of yours. It deserves more…" he shrugged, hunting for the words.

"Like what, a thong?" Jack suggested, just as Ianto took a sip of coffee. 

He spluttered a laugh. "Damn it Jack, how do you always manage that?" he wiped the droplets of tea from his tie.

"Impeccable timing." Jack grinned, his anger dissipating.

"OK, I get it, you got your revenge. Look, I'm sorry, truly." He got to his feet, moving to stand closer. "I guess I was dense enough not to realise how important this was to you." He captured Jack's face in his hands and kissed him, an apologetic kiss, gentle and chaste. "I'm sorry, Jack, about us. I've just been up to my eyes since getting back to work." He sighed heavily. "I'm not…not handling this whole relationship thing very well, am I?"

Jack capitulated. "Ianto, it’s okay." He pulled the man into a hug. "I just don't know where we stand at the moment, that's all. Talk to me, tell me, please?"

"What's to tell?" Ianto's arms wound round his back. "I want to be with you, I want us to date, I want to spend time with you, but….work is getting in the way. I'm tired…"

"Exhausted, more like." Jack said. "You came back to work too soon."

"Maybe, but that doesn't excuse my behaviour."

"So, make it up to me and take me to dinner,” Jack murmured. "What do you want me to wear?"

"What have you got?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Ianto stopped by the Hub promptly at 7.30pm to pick Jack up, dressed in his usual dark overcoat against the rather chill evening wind that blew in off the bay. Dark pinstripe trousers and polished shoes were all Jack could see as a scarf sat immaculately round his neck and his coat collar was turned up to hide whatever else he was wearing. Jack was dressed similarly, a dark charcoal wool overcoat replacing the RAF blue for the night. Gwen and Tosh had both decided to take him out on a shopping trip that afternoon as his wardrobe offered nothing apart from jeans, tee shirts and working gear. Ianto cocked an eyebrow at him but said nothing as they walked to Waves Restaurant. For all the world they looked like business partners rather than lovers.

Once inside, Ianto shed his overcoat and scarf to the Hotel cloakroom and took Jack's from him, pausing to admire the man who stood in front of him. Jack had transformed from the authoritative but rough and ready figure who ran head first into a fight. He had left the work gear behind and stood there in front of a nearby mirror adjusting the collar on his dark blue shirt, straightening the dark shimmering silk of his tie. The blue complemented his eyes perfectly. His suit was charcoal grey, almost black, just like the coat. The open jacket revealed a dark blue paisley waistcoat and, in typically old-fashioned style, he was wearing a gold pocket watch, its chain draped from pocket to pocket across the waistcoat front. It took Ianto's breath away to see him so smart and so relaxed. Jack had made this effort for him and he found himself warmed by the gesture, not to mention turned on.

"So, waddaya think?" Jack stood in front of him, arms held out for appraisal. "Do I pass muster?"

"Beautiful, Jack. You look…" he paused, swallowed, and whispered, "…fucking gorgeous."

Jack smiled at the complement. "You're not so bad yourself," he commented, eyeing the black suit, dark claret-coloured shirt, even darker tie and the black silk waistcoat shimmering as it caught the light on the weave. Jack found himself wishing the dinner was over so he could take Ianto home and undress him. He cleared his throat and tried to think of something else.

The meal was good, the place had unrivalled views cross Cardiff Bay and their conversation didn't falter one bit. They discussed movies, music, philosophy, plays, history (Jack had seen a lot first hand after all). Touchy subjects they skimmed over, like the wars, Torchwood itself, Jack's past. Ianto found himself talking a lot about his Welsh childhood, about his family, friends, schools. Jack listened, attentive, asking questions, subtly drawing things from him. Ianto envied his ability to encourage people to talk and reveal things to him. Once you got past the lack of diplomacy and somewhat forthright attitude, that is. Ianto didn't mind, he himself would divulge nothing unless he wanted to but in Jack's company he found himself relaxed enough to talk.

"So was Lisa your first and only?" Jack asked, eventually.

"No, not the first. I guess you can discount Linda Weaver at school, we were struck on each other but it never got past kissing. Her Tad would have killed me. I had a disastrous relationship with a little IT Tech from Torchwood 1, she was all over me. Trouble was I wasn't struck on her. She had a very annoying giggle…" He trailed off. "I suppose I shouldn't ask you how many you've had, I won't want to hear it."

"Last count, including you, seven."

"Liar."

Jack smiled "No, honestly, seven…humans that is."

"See, I knew there was a catch. You've probably bedded at least 60 aliens…"

"Only six, as I recall." His eyes took on a far-away look. "the last one was a beautiful aquamarine-skinned creature with tentacles."

"Male?"

"I said _'tentacles',_ Ianto," Jack said and Ianto grinned.

"So, amazing sex was it?"

"Oh yeah. Multiple orgasms, every orifice penetrated at once…." He shivered.

"Lecherous bastard aren't you? Makes me sound boring…"

"Never," Jack said seriously. "As I've said before, when you make love to one of your own kind who actually feels something for you, no comparison." He reached out and captured Ianto's hand across the table. Serious blue eyes looked into Ianto's and he said, "I mean it. I'll _never_ get bored with you."

A giggle interrupted them and Ianto snatched his hand back, blushing furiously. Two women across from their table were flicking glances and murmuring to each other, giggling softly.

"Who cares about them?" Jack said, his eyes never leaving Ianto's. "This is _our_ night Ianto." Jack captured Ianto’s hand again and squeezed the fingers. "The world can go fuck itself, I've never cared what anyone else thinks." He raised the fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. "They've probably been betting all night whether we're a couple or not."

Ianto's eyes looked deep into his. "Jack, I just want you to know…"

"Excuse me, Gentlemen." Ianto jumped at the sudden presence of the waiter and yelped "Yes?"

"The desert menu." He flourished the gilt edged cards and left. Jack was laughing softly and shook his head. Ianto huffed and considered the list. Jack deliberately turned and looked at the women, smiling his most winning smile.

"Flirt on our first date and I'll kill you," came the deadpan reply.

"Shut up and order," came the retort.

"What shall I get you? The _passion_ fruit?" Ianto put the menu down and looked across at him. "Jack?"

"What?"

"Let's just…go home. My place, what do you say? Coffee? Maybe that movie you suggested?" Ianto's tone made him pause.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've had a wonderful evening, really, but this is too public, that's all." He tried to laugh. "Anyway, why pay for coffee when you can have mine? It’s much better."

"OK, if you're sure."

"I've never been more sure of anything."

The taxi didn't take long to deposit them at Ianto's flat. Ianto made coffee for them both and they sat down on the sofa in companionable silence.

"You know, I don't know how to do this," Ianto said suddenly. "This relationship thing with you, I've no idea where to start…"

"Didn't you have a relationship with Lisa?"

"Yes, but this is….different. You're a man."

"Last time I noticed."

"So…I can't do the same things with you as I did with her, they don't really fit."

"Like what? Movies? Coffee? Dinner?"

Ianto sighed. "No, I mean everyday stuff, like shopping…I'm having difficulty explaining…"

"I noticed." Jack turned to face him. "What is so different? You're not ashamed to be seen with me, are you? You definitely didn't like those women staring at us tonight."

"No, I'm not ashamed. Never that, Jack. I'm not used to being thought of as gay, I guess."

Jack smiled. "Takes a bit of getting used to I expect," he said. "Although it’s not hard…maybe next time I take you to a gay bar, less pressure."

"Yeah, well, I want to enjoy myself with you, Jack, not be looking over my shoulder all the time."

Jack chuckled and shed his jacket, loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. He reached out and took Ianto's coffee mug out of his hand and put it next to his on the coffee table.

"Well, I now propose to enjoy myself with you, Ianto Jones. I'm going to make out with you on this couch, then take you to bed and make out some more there, then take a long hot shower with you when we wake up tomorrow morning and then make you breakfast, how does that sound?"

Ianto regarded him with a smile. "Sounds good,” he said. "Especially the bit about the morning." He was suddenly shy. "I got used to you being around when you were looking after me," he said. "It was nice to wake up with you here." Then Ianto took a deep breath and said "Jack…how would you feel if I asked you to move in with me?"

Jack's eyebrows rose. "You and me? Together? Are you sure? Isn't it a bit soon?"

"Yes, yes, yes, and possibly, but I don't care," Ianto answered quickly. "I miss you every time we're apart. When you were looking after me it felt so good to have someone here with me, to not be alone anymore. I miss that, I miss you." He sighed. "I didn't know what to do to get it back…work got in the way, so much to do, to catch up on. I felt like screaming sometimes…"

"Well, I guess, if you want me to, I could move in…give it a try anyway. We got on okay last week after all."

Ianto's smile was gratifyingly happy. He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a paper bag neatly folded around something small and handed it over. "I had this made for you." He watched as Jack unwrapped it.

A gold key fell out onto Jack's palm. "What's this?" 

"The key to my heart?" Ianto deadpanned, then failed to keep a straight face and began to laugh. "Sorry…that was so corny." He giggled. "It's a spare key to my flat of course."

Jack grinned. "Nobody has ever done that for me." he admitted, then placed the key on the table carefully. When he turned back to Ianto he reached a hand behind his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. 

His lips sealed against the younger man's, feeling the questing tongue against his own. They groped and fondled each other, "making out" as Jack had put it, happily content to shed jackets and ties and loosen clothing and slip hands inside, stroking heated flesh and hard muscle. Jack's mouth trailed wet kisses down Ianto's neck, nipping and licking, while Ianto's fingers carded through his hair, trailed down his chest and found each hard nipple, rubbing and pinching gently. Jack moaned into Ianto's neck and thrust his hips against Ianto's thigh, feeling Ianto's arousal, the gratifyingly hard cock pressed against his leg. Ianto could also feel Jack's erection pressing with increasing urgency against him.

"Let's take this to the bedroom?" Ianto's voice was husky with need.

"Let's stay here," Jack insisted. "We've got all night." He pulled Ianto down onto the couch. "We can go to bed later…" His fingers reached for the zip in Ianto's pants. One hand slipped inside to rub along the length of him through the fabric of his boxers. Ianto groaned and arched his back, lifting his hips. Jack's hands eased their way under the waistband of Ianto's boxers and tugged them and his trousers off in one go. Then he leaned forward and sealed his mouth around Ianto's erection, taking all of him deep into his throat. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked hard, heard Ianto's gasp, felt his hips thrust forward. Ianto's fingers tightened in his hair, his moans became desperate. Jack's steady rhythm got faster. He slid his hands round and grasped the flesh, pulling Ianto in towards him.

"Jack…no more…too soon…I'm…going to…" the words got lost as his desire spiralled out of control, breathy gasps becoming more and more harsh. Jack did not let go, he sucked harder. His fingers found their goal and invaded gently, easing into the tight heat relentlessly. Ianto cried out with the intensity and came hard into Jack's mouth. Jack swallowed it all, every bit, licking him clean. He had the look of a sated, well-fed cat, proud of the effect he had. Ianto lay gasping, head thrown back, the waves of pleasure refusing to let him go completely. A sheen of sweat covered his skin and Jack pressed close and inhaled his scent deeply, intoxicated by the man underneath him.

Finally Ianto sat up lazily and Jack rose to his feet. Ianto reached for Jack and ran his hands up the man's thighs, felt him shiver in response. With Jack standing in front of him, Ianto's fingers found the zip of Jack's trousers, undid it slowly, then slid his hands in, eased the fabric over his hips and let it pool on the floor around his ankles. Jack kicked them off as Ianto's hand rubbed his erection through the dark blue silk of his boxers. Gwen had suggested he buy those, the naughty girl, Jack thought. Apparently she had bought Rhys a pair last Christmas and from the look on her face, either she was remembering Rhys wearing them or fantasising about Jack wearing them. Either way, it had sounded like a good idea. Ianto would suit a red pair, Jack thought briefly.

Ianto buried his face in the warm fabric, nuzzling. Jack could feel Ianto's warm breath through the silk as his hand massaged carefully. He let loose a soft moan of anticipation and desire as he stood there, running his fingers through the softness of the short dark hair. He felt Ianto's hands easing the silk from his hips and freeing his cock, curling his fingers round it and stroking in a steady rhythm. Then he felt the warm wet mouth enfold him and Ianto sucked surprisingly hard. Jack's groan was accompanied by his hips jerking forward. Ianto let him go and looked up at him.

"Would you…Jack, I…"

"What?" Jack asked gently "What do you want me to do?"

Ianto simply looked at him, his own cock rapidly hardening again, making it difficult to think. His eyes closed as he fought to concentrate, his breathing fast and shallow.

"I…I don't know…"

"Yes, you do," came the quiet reply.

"I…" Ianto paused. "I'm not…" He was flustered, unable to get the words out.

"Ianto, if you don't want to suck me off, I don't mind," Jack said with a smile ."It’s an acquired taste. Some folks don’t like it.”

"It’s not that…I…" He screwed his eyes shut. "God, fuck me, Jack, that's what I want…" his voice was a whisper.

Jack grinned. "You only had to ask," he murmured. "Come on, now’s the time to take this to the bedroom." He helped Ianto to his feet, divesting him of his shirt, throwing the rest of his own clothing on the sofa. He walked backwards, tugging Ianto along by the hands, pulling him into a heated embrace just inside the door. They tumbled to the bed and lay there, kissing and stroking.

Eventually, Ianto pulled away again, the look in his eyes unfathomable.

"You okay?" Jack asked, his cock just inches from Ianto's delectable mouth. He was aching for the man to taste him again, but he seemed unsure.

"Yeah.” It came out huskily.

"Sure?"

"No, just…not used to all this yet."

"Feel your way," Jack suggested with a grin. "Just go with what you know you like to have somebody do to you."

Ianto shivered and carefully let the head of Jack's cock slide into his mouth, his lips compressing gently, warm breath caressing the sensitive skin. Jack hissed through gritted teeth at the waves of pleasure shooting through him. Ianto's uncertainty made him slow, but slow was fine in Jack's book. Going slow prolonged the outcome, going slow made the feelings more intense.

Suddenly Ianto pulled back again. Jack looked at him, one eyebrow raised. A fine sheen of sweat covered his torso, his eyes burned with an intensity Jack had never seen before.

Abruptly, Ianto lay face down on the bed, arms above his head. He flicked a glance Jack's way, just so Jack would catch the implication. He grinned. Ianto was mutely submitting to Jack's control, silently asking for Jack to take the initiative. _Well,_ Jack thought, _if that’s what he wants, that’s what he’ll get…_ He sat up, positioned himself behind the prone form and then laid his full weight along Ianto's back, pressing him into the bed. He knew his cock was leaving its own impression, wantonly pressing into Ianto's flesh, leaving him in no doubt as to where it would soon end up. He went to work on the back of Ianto's neck with teeth and tongue, leaving a trail of kisses down his back.

He paused when he touched the scar on Ianto's back below the ribs, kissed it gently. 

Ianto turned his head. "It’s okay, Jack, I'm fine now," he said softly. 

Jack nodded and went back to his caressing. As he went lower, he felt the man stiffen beneath him, anticipating. God, but Ianto loved to be fucked, now he had found out how good it felt. Jack really loved it to hear those words coming from his mouth, asking him.

"Say it," he whispered "What do you want me to do to you?"

Ianto writhed beneath him, mute for a moment. Then, in that oh-so-quiet voice with those beautiful Welsh vowels he replied, "Fuck me, please Jack. I want you to fuck me, hard…"

"Yes,sir," Jack answered softly and felt the quivering response in Ianto's whole body beneath him.

Ianto felt Jack's penetrating fingers, spreading him, teasing, coaxing sensations out of him again. He moaned, shifted back against Jack's hand, wanting more. Jack did not take long, his lover was already more than prepared. Ianto's breath hitched as he felt the fingers withdraw to be replaced very quickly by Jack's warm, firm and very slick cock. He slid in slowly and gently, taking his time, feeling Ianto push back onto him, urging him on. He settled into a steady rhythm, feeling Ianto match his movements. This time, their passion built slowly as Jack moved and moved within Ianto's body. Taking things to another level, Jack's thrusts got harder, faster. Ianto's back arched, he growled deep in his throat. His hips slammed back into Jack's and his body jerked hard as he found his release. Jack wasn't far behind, spilling his seed deep inside his lover, such beautiful release binding him ever closer to the man whose body he possessed.

He slid off Ianto's back, along his side, folding him into a tight embrace, protective, loving and possessive. Ianto sighed, lethargy spreading through every limb, the aftermath of great sex soaking through every pore. He was content, held in the arms of the man he loved. Suddenly, a thought came to Jack.

"Ianto, back in the restaurant, do you remember what you were going to say before you got interrupted? You said _"I just want you to know…"._ Know what, Ianto?" Jack didn't expect a reply, realising that Ianto may well have forgotten or, more likely, that his brain had just overloaded and there was no way he would be able to remember. But surprisingly, Ianto murmured softly, "I love you."

"Was that it? Really?"

"I was going to say, I just want you to know, whatever happens, I love you, Jack." Sleep began to overcome both brain and body and he was powerless to stop it.

"I love you too, Ianto Jones." Jack said, unaware if he had heard or not.

"I know," came the slightly slurred reply and Jack held him close, unwilling to let go, listening as Ianto's breathing slowed and deepened as he slipped into unconsciousness. There was something about Ianto Jones that had hooked Jack Harkness and reeled him in, helpless to resist. Finally he decided it was pointless to even try. Jack let sleep take him, wondering briefly if he would ever find anywhere where he felt such contentment ever again. Best not to think about it, his sleepy mind considered as he finally succumbed to slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end of the first bit, and I am considering whether to add the next six chapters as separate parts of the same work. You'll no doubt find out soon.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first chapter and I now I throw it open to you, readers, to tell me what you think. I have edited it from the original, not heavily, but improving (I hope) my grammar and formatting. I'm updating as I manage to edit this thing.
> 
> I am posthumously gifting this work to Krekta, my soulmate and best friend, who died two years ago. We worked on some of the scenes, in role play, so this work gives me a connection with her. She loved this one. Hope you like it too.


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